Lord Vader's Achilles Heel
by AuntZelda
Summary: Padmé Amidala, outspoken member of the Galactic Senate and undercover agent of the Rebel Alliance, commits a crime that requires Obi-Wan Kenobi to come out of hiding and return to Coruscant. The fate of the galaxy is forever changed by the reuniting of Padmé, Obi-Wan, and long-thought-dead Anakin Skywalker, who has been living in the Emperor’s shadow as Darth Vader. AU
1. She Had Killed Someone

She had killed someone. Her hands were shaking, stained with blood. It wasn't the first time she had taken a life, but it was the only time she remembered her kill having a face. Defending her people from soulless ghosts in masks and battle droids was something she could reason was right. Killing in cold blood was another thing entirely. The man was lying on the ground, facedown, in a growing pool of blood. Although it wasn't visible to her at the moment, she knew a piece of jagged glass from her broken bottle of wine was lodged crudely in his jugular.

Padmé took a deep breath and wiped the evidence of her murder on her dress. She had been the queen of Naboo. She was a member of the Galactic Senate who was secretly helping spearhead a rebellion against the empire. Surely, if this was any regular man someone could help her shove this little incident under the rug, never to be brought up again. However, this wasn't just any ordinary man who had decided to get too handsy, this was her fellow senator, Rush Clovis.

"_Padmé Amidala," Clovis said breathily as she held open her apartment door to let him inside. "I must admit I was surprised to get your request." _

_She was still wearing her formal dress and elaborate braid from a few hours prior for the Senate meeting she had attended. Padmé had spoken publicly on her disapproval of the Galactic Empire's motion to reinstate the position of a representative of the Trade Confederation within the Galactic Senate, a disrespectful and abhorrent choice to make considering the acts of the confederation against her home planet of Naboo years ago, not to mention their dealings with the Separatists before the fall of the Republic. _

_Padmé hid the stress brought on by the exhausting day easily, a talent she had adapted by working in politics since she was a mere teenager. She had perfected the technique by now. She flashed him an award winning smile. _

"_Yes, well. In times such as these it's important to know who our allies are." She said professionally, raising her hand to guide him towards the dining room. _

"_Of course," Clovis grinned back, he looked her up and down with a lusty glint in his eye. She refrained from rolling her eyes. _

"_Come, we have much business to discuss." She led the senator to her dining room table. He took in the view from her large rectangular windows which showcased a stunning view of the city at sunset. _

"_Such a romantic view you have, Padmé." Clovis murmured. She felt his eyes on her as she walked over to her cabinet to retrieve a bottle of fine wine and a corkscrew. She ignored his drivel and jumped right into more important conversation. _

"_What did you think of the Emperor's choice to reinstate a member of the Trade Confederation to the Senate?" Padmé began conversationally, politely pouring Clovis a glass of wine and then doing the same for herself. They both sat down, Padmé awaiting his response eagerly. His view on the Trade Confederation could be telling of his other political views and loyalties. _

_Clovis laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Padmé, must we talk about the Senate? I do not necessarily agree with everything the emperor proposes but it isn't the worst thing that could've happened." He paused, licking his lips. "Besides, I know you have a much greater purpose for this gathering than idle conversation." Clovis leaned forward across the table and grabbed her wrist tightly with his hand. "We've both wanted this for a while." He continued, eyeing her lips hungrily… _

"Kriff," She muttered thoughtfully, bringing herself up from her formerly kneeling position and onto two shaky legs. "Padmé , how did you get yourself into this one?" She slipped off her uncomfortable shoes and stumbled over to the small table she and the now deceased senator Clovis had been sitting at sipping drinks less than ten minutes ago. Realizing the wine was gone, as she had used the bottle to kill her guest, she continued onto her cabinet to grab a fresh bottle. She popped it open easily and brought it to her lips to take a generous gulp, before sliding down into a chair and staring at the mess just five feet away from her blankly.

She had invited Clovis over as a favor to the Rebel Alliance. As a notable and powerful member of the Galactic Senate, she had volunteered her own services to investigate loyalties among her peers in order to recruit other dignified individuals to join the rebel cause. However, the former senator had taken her invitation as a proposition for intimacy. Intimacy which was quite clearly unwanted on her end. She had demanded for the man to take his hands off her, and when he did not comply, she acted in emergence. There was no question about it, when it came down to fight or flight, Padmé Amidala's instincts aligned much more with fight.

This was no time to dwell on the past, the past being ten minutes ago. She needed to look towards the future. She needed to find a way to get rid of the body. She needed an alibi. She reached for her comlink with a sigh, rolling it between her fingers as she came up with a plan. She had two options, both holding their own unique uncertainties.

The first option was Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan was her oldest and dearest friend. However, he had a generally negative opinion when it came to killing in cold blood. She was positive that if she explained she had performed the act in self defense, he would be more than understanding; but calling upon Obi-Wan would be an extremely selfish choice on her part, as he was in hiding like the rest of the Jedi who had survived Order 66. If he was seen by the wrong person it could compromise his safety and even his life. Not to mention she was located in the center of Coruscant, surrounded by the enemy.

The second option was her fellow senator and rebel, Bail Organa of Alderan. Bail was her most trusted advisor. His political views aligned almost identically with hers, and they had been sticking together since she joined the Senate four years ago. He didn't blame her for her role in the rise of Emperor Palpatine, so he claimed. Her single greatest mistake. Bail was a firm believer in the rebel cause and would surely come to her aid in most all situations. If she had killed anyone besides Rush Clovis, who was a potentially powerful ally as he was also a member of the InterGalactic Banking Clan, she was sure Bail wouldn't have many qualms coming to her aid. It was also guaranteed that Bail would inform Mon Mothma of her deed. She trusted Mon, but not enough for her to be aware that she murdered a person of great importance.

She couldn't bear to involve her handmaiden, Sabiné, as she had no Force power or political allegiance that could keep her from unmerciful punishment. Sabiné was an old friend, and the only handmaiden Padmé had brought with her to the capital. Her handmaiden had risked enough and suffered greatly for Padmé when she was queen, she wouldn't dare ask this of her now.

The Rebel Alliance could make this go away, she decided. However, it would sufficiently damage her current reputation and power within the rebellion. She would be looked at as a loose canon, unable to control a simple situation such as finding out the allegiance of a fellow senator without commiting the atrocities of treason and murder. A rookie mistake Padmé had made, for sure. Why didn't she impale him in the leg or anywhere less fatal than his kriffling carotid artery? She knew the smartest option was to reach out to Obi-Wan. The incident would remain a mystery to the rest of the galaxy. Obi-Wan was like a vault where she could unleash the honesty of all of her mistakes and never worry about them being found out by the rest of the universe. Her secret would be locked up. The thought that she could be so selfish to request the assistance of her in-hiding Jedi friend was disturbing, however. His Force presence being detected on Coruscant by the emperor would be an incredible risk on his part. She made this ridiculous mess, she should be the one to deal with the consequences. She sighed, but then again, this was war. This was war, and for kriff sake if not disposing of bodies of rapist senators, what are friends for? Perhaps she would just ask him where he was at this particular moment. If he was still in a system far away with master Yoda, she would figure out a way to handle this on her own. However, if he was hanging around on a planet nearby…

She tossed her comlink gingerly before catching it and bringing it up to her ear. "Obi-Wan, are you there?" She whispered. There was no response. "Obi-Wan Kenobi?" She tried again, her heart stopped for a moment as she waited. She let out the breath she had been holding unconsciously and slouched down in her seat. He wasn't going to answer. She was going to have to figure this one out alone.

"Padmé?" A kind, familiar, and slightly weary voice came out of her comlink. She jumped, her heart beating quickly.

"Obi-Wan," she exclaimed breathlessly, "How are you?"

There was silence on the other end. She cursed herself. What a stupid question. What could he say? Nobody was doing well in these times. Especially the remaining Jedi.

"I'm doing quite well, considering the circumstances." He said simply. Leave it to Obi-Wan to hide his true feelings behind vague and unwarranted positivity.

"Where are you?" Padmé jumped right to the chase. There was no point beating around the bush. She hadn't talked to her old friend in almost a year. He had to have deduced she needed a favor. Nobody calls a recluse in hiding just to chat during wartime.

"I'm on Onderon, in the inner rim. I'm looking for a lead for the Rebel Alliance, a possible Force sensitive individual." Obi-Wan paused. "Are you in trouble, Padmé?"

Padmé sighed. He wasn't far, but the Jedi master was in the middle of an important mission. In addition to putting him in danger with her request, she could be ruining Obi-Wan's chance of finding an ally for the remaining Jedi and alliance. She hadn't even known he was working with the rebels; she would have to confront Mon Mothma of this fact. Mon Mothma was the leader of the Rebel Alliance, however, Padmé was a valued and highly involved member. She wondered if Bail knew they had a Jedi actively on their side now.

"Obi-Wan," She began, taking another large gulp of wine, "I've gotten myself into a bit of a jam, and I don't know who else I can trust." She eyed the corpse on the now heavily blood-stained marble floor of her apartment.

"What is it?" He asked, "I'm in an area where we may talk freely. I just hid my speeder in the trees, the next town is about a days walk through the jungle." He didn't sound too bothered by the prospect of the hike.

"I killed Rush Clovis," she said plainly after a long pause. "Broken wine bottle to the carotid artery."

Obi-Wan was silent. Padmé held her breath; she could only imagine his exasperation. "Padmé," He began gently, "Why did you kill the senator of Scipio?"

"Well, Obi-Wan," Padmé said with a great sigh, "While he was trying to be intimate with me, I stabbed him in the jugular rather than just a regular appendage as I probably should have."

"Intimate?" He asked, ignoring her babble. "Do you mean he—"

"I mean he tried to rape me." She said bluntly, seeing no reason to continue using euphemisms and beating around the bush. "He wouldn't take his hands off me and I killed him. I was supposed to be figuring out his political allegiances for the rebels, however he misunderstood my motives to meet with him privately."

Silence. A deep sigh from Obi-Wan. "You are unharmed?" He said finally.

She laughed humorlessly, "Physically, I am right as rain." She remarked, "However, I have a slowly bloating corpse lying on my dining room floor and no alibi."

Neither of them said anything for what seemed like several minutes. They both knew what she was insinuating. She needed his help.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

**A/N: A short first chapter, but a hell of an introduction. Nice one, Padmé. Let me know what you think, chapter two is almost finished and will be Obi-Wan POV. To anyone wondering about my other story, I am still working on it and will be uploading soon. Yes, I know it's been forever and I apologize for my lame-ness if anyone is displeased with my absence. I'm back now! **


	2. Set the Coordinates for Coruscant

"Artoo, set the coordinates for Coruscant!" Obi-Wan called out to the droid as he ran around to the door of his speeder. Earlier today he had expertly landed the aircraft in a trove of thick jungle trees, located a days distance away from any civilization on the planet of Onderon. The ship was hidden magnificently and it mildly pained him that he would have to maneuver his way into a similar spot to complete his mission after returning from Coruscant.

Coruscant. His heart ached as his mind unwillingly took him back to the extermination of the Jedi and the destruction of the temple located on the former capital of the Republic and of democracy. Now it was the city of a Sith tyrant and his murderous apprentice.

Many would call him mad to see he was returning to the capital. However, he was a Jedi Knight and there was a senator in need. Padmé Amidala was an ally and dare he say it, dear friend. They had known each other for a long time, and he cared for her wellbeing.

He had an ally Padmé may be able to use as an alibi. If this friend happened to still be on the planet. He begged the Force that he was. Obi-Wan had already redeemed an owed favor from Dexter Jettser during the Clone Wars, however, perhaps he could ask for another with the condition of repaying it.

Obi-Wan had been in the swamps of Dagobah with Yoda for two years. For only about a year had he been in league with the Rebel Alliance and traveling the galaxy once again. Yoda had declared that his time for involvement with wars were over, but perhaps Obi-Wan still had work to do in saving the galaxy. Obi-Wan respected the opinion of the wise Jedi Master, and figured that if Yoda had suggested he come out of hiding that there was reason for it that he didn't yet understand. Yoda was more often in a meditative state than not, searching the Force for answers regarding the galaxy. If Yoda had sensed Obi-Wan was needed to restore balance, then who was he to argue with the former Grand Master of the Jedi Order.

As Obi-Wan entered the system of Coruscant for the first time in three long years, he used all the energy he could muster to disguise his Force signature. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to the fact that he was alive, for one, and also setting foot on the planet Sidious ruled his corrupt empire from. His cruiser was an inconspicuous older model he had stolen from the desolate planet of Jakku during his last mission, which had unfortunately turned out to be pointless as the wretched Inquisitors had beaten him to reaching the Force sensitive child he'd been looking for a few days prior.

He pulled his hood up to cover his face, dressed in a black cloak rather than his former brown Jedi robes he had adorned while living in the capital. Obi-Wan smoothly landed his cruiser on the landing of senator Amidala's apartment on the top floors of the Senate Apartment Complex.

"Come, Artoo." He said quietly, opening up the door to his ship and jumping out gracefully. He gazed out at the city, which looked just as how he had left it. If it wasn't for the Force he wouldn't be able to tell a difference. However, he could feel the darkness in the air, heavy and suffocating. An uncomfortable chill ran down his spine. He would have to be very careful. His presence here put himself and Padmé in danger. Obi-Wan made another strong attempt to hide his Force signature, hoping that his small amount of light within the darkness would be indistinguishable from the Inquisitors running around the capital, acting as "peacekeepers." An insult to the memory of the Jedi. Obi-Wan cleared his head quickly before entering Padmé's penthouse from the balcony with R2D2.

She was as he had only seen her once before… helpless. A sight many would never believe, if they knew the independent, strong, and fiery former queen of Naboo. He had only seen her look so resigned and out-of-her-mind a decade ago, when Qui-Gonn and himself had rescued her and her people from the Trade Confederation. She had been much younger then, but she still looked the same to Obi-Wan.

Her curly brown locks were falling out of the long braid that was holding them, and her tan dress was smeared with blood. She was barefoot, her shoes scattered between her and the dead body in front of her. Padmé's small form was slouched in her chair, a bottle of wine dangling in her left hand and her comlink between the fingers of her right. As he moved closer to her he could see her hands were stained pink and that her normal ivory complexion had taken on a greenish tinge.

"Padmé?" He whispered. She turned around immediately, as if being snapped out of a trance.

"Obi-Wan!" Padmé exclaimed, setting her bottle of wine on the table and standing shakily. "It's been so long…" she embraced him tightly, "Although, I'm sure we'd both prefer a reunion under better circumstances."

"I'm going by Ben lately, actually." He said lightly, hugging her back softly and ignoring the dark situation at hand for a moment. "Obi-Wan is a wanted fugitive. Ben is merely a common traveler."

Padmé laughed sadly, "What a mess this has all become." He agreed with her in his silence, pulling away from her and removing his hood.

"I've brought a droid, he was very helpful during the clone wars." Obi-Wan gestured to Artoo, who had zipped past the embracing old friends to stare at the dead body of Rush Clovis.

The droid beeped with exasperation, asking him what in the blazes they were doing here with this seemingly unhinged woman and her unlucky kill.

Padmé joined the droid, thankfully unable to understand his language, to stare down at her handiwork with a deep frown. "Thank you for coming to my rescue." She turned back to Obi-Wan before adding under her breath, "Again."

He said nothing, moving to stand with her and the droid, staring down at the unmoving form, attempting to concoct a plan. They would need to dispose of him somewhere else in the city. Somewhere far away from anywhere affiliated with Padmé or the senate. His mind drifted to a particularly shady nightclub in the lower levels of Coruscant's Uscru Entertainment District, where he had gone to track a couple of unsavory folk over the years. All sorts of criminals as well as higher echelons of society were coming in and out of the place, gambling and making deals. Many had died there in a drunken brawl.

"We could er-dispose-of him near the Outlander Club." Obi-Wan said, running his hand through his beard thoughtfully. Artoo beeped in annoyance with Obi-Wan's need to involve himself in such a chaotic situation, however also agreed that the Outlander Club would be a decent location to dump a body.

Padmé nodded, "Very believable," she peered down at the body sceptically, "However, how are we getting him there? We can't just drag him down the street or throw him in a bag. It'll be quite obvious what we're up to with a human-sized parcel."

The senator's eyes widened, suddenly, and she darted off towards her chambers. "I'll be right back." She called over her shoulder, leaving Obi-Wan and Artoo to stare after her. The droid turned to Obi-Wan.

He beeped at him quietly, letting Obi-Wan know that this was their chance to run and act like they'd never been a part of this, to escape this dreaded planet without being seen. Obi-Wan sighed at the droid. "Artoo, Padmé is a friend, and you will not convince me otherwise. If you desire to be out of the action you may wait in the ship."

Artoo beeped back defiantly, causing Obi-Wan to smirk. Obi-Wan surveyed Padmé's apartment, curiously. He had never been inside before. The architecture was beautiful and archaic, yet the place had a modern feel to it as well with it's geometric furniture and tables. Large paintings of Naboo's rivers and forests covered the walls. A large canvas was positioned in the center of the living room, nailed to a wooden stretcher. A painting in the early stages of depicting the Theed Royal Palace was upon it, a variety of paints set to the side of the easel on a small table. As Obi-Wan walked around the apartment gazing at the paintings hanging on the walls, it became clear that they were in the same style as the one in progress.

Padmé emerged from her quarters, carrying a large black suitcase. She came to stand next to Obi-Wan, who was still staring at a detailed painting of a naboo riverbed and surrounding greenery. "I miss it." She said simply. "I miss feeling the wind on my skin and smelling something other than the city." There was no wind or heat on Coruscant as the temperature and weather were always the same, regulated and unnatural.

"Yet you continue to stay here, fighting the Empire under Sidious's nose." Obi-Wan said quietly. "When you could have returned to Naboo and avoided the messy quarrels of the senate." He turned back to her, eyeing the suitcase questioningly.

"Yes, well," Padmé replied evenly, "I'm doing what I can for my people and the galaxy. I'm quite good at politics, It's my duty. I know you, of all people, understand that. Anyways… I have an idea." She gulped, and he could tell by her sheepish expression that he wasn't going to enjoy whatever idea she had concocted. "We can't just bring Clovis to the Outlander as he is, as dragging a corpse down the street is anything but nonchalant."

Obi-Wan, began to feel ill as he could gather what his friend was insinuating. "You want to chop him up and shove him in a suitcase?"

Padmé flushed a little at her gruesome idea being voiced aloud. "Well, yes." She replied. "I was thinking your lightsaber would be the less messy way of doing this, but marks from a lightsaber are easily distinguishable."

Obi-Wan stared at the senator, shocked with how the war had warped her mind into making such decisions as murder and chopping up bodies. Padmé sighed at him, looking away shamefully.

"Look, I know I screwed up Obi-Wan. I'm trying to avoid thought of the moral repercussions and instead focus on how to clean up my mess in the most efficient manner." She turned away from him and quickly headed towards her kitchen. Obi-Wan followed after her, stopping to stand next to Artoo who was still peering down at the corpse in the dining room nearby. He never thought he'd see the day when he would be mutilating a corpse with Senator Amidala, of all people. Artoo beeped in alarm at something behind them. Obi-Wan turned around to see the senator.

Padmé emerged from the kitchen, looking green again, brandishing a large butcher knife in her small blood-stained hand. She kneeled down next to Clovis, and began to reach for one of his arms. "This will be quite messy, won't it?" She murmured under her breath, positioning the knife to prepare herself to begin sawing off a dead man's limb. Obi-Wan was overcome with a wave of nausea. He had seen a lot of disturbing things during the war, however one never gets comfortable with scenarios such as this. He could sense her distress through the Force. Just as he was about to stop her and declare that they'd find another way, she dropped the knife and ran towards her kitchen again. He followed after her, in time to view her vomiting violently into the kitchen sink. She held onto the sink tightly, her legs trembling. Obi-Wan pulled the strands of hair that had escaped her braid away from her face as she continued to be sick. She was guilty and disgusted with herself, he could feel it.

"It's okay, Padmé." He said quietly, with a sigh, "If I was in your position I would have done the same thing."

She wiped her mouth with a towel, standing up straightly. "Aren't Jedi not supposed to lie?" She muttered, seeing through his comforting words. She turned on the sink to rinse the vomit down the drain. He grabbed her a glass and filled it with water when she was finished, handing it to her. She guzzled it down immediately, before leaning on the counter, her face resting in her hands. "I can do the chopping," She insisted. "I just need a moment."

"I can also do the chopping…" He began reluctantly, only to be interrupted by the noise of a laser. Padmé and Obi-Wan looked at each other in alarm and ran towards the source of the noise. Artoo was shooting a red laser out of his head directly at the spot where Padmé had anticipated sawing off the arm of the dead senator. The butcher knife lay on the ground beside the body, forgotten. Slowly but surely, the pressure from the droid's laser detached Clovis's left arm. Artoo stopped for a moment and beeped loudly at them.

"What did you say his name was, again?" Padmé asked Obi-Wan softly, her eyes wide as saucers. Obi-Wan eyed the droid in amusement.

"R2D2, milady." He said, "Artoo for short."

"Thank you for abetting me in my crime, Artoo." Padmé said to the droid with relief. "You have saved my sanity."

Artoo beeped back a quick and unconvinced "your welcome" and spun around to the other side of Clovis to begin working on removing his other arm.

Obi-Wan stood on the balcony of the penthouse while Padmé washed up and changed into clothing that would make her unrecognizable. He closed his eyes, mediating easily, using the Force to feel for any suspicion surrounding himself or the senator. All he felt was darkness. So thick that it was almost as if he was swimming in it, large waves washing over him making it difficult to breathe or see through the blackness. He could hear indistinct whispers, telling him nothing but making him feel apprehensive. He searched the black, his mind on senator Amidala. The whispers got louder and louder, until they became almost deafening. He still couldn't understand them. Suddenly, just as he thought his mind was about to burst, a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared out of the dark. The eyes of a Sith. He could feel them glaring at him and heard one word being hissed at him vehemently, "Jedi…."

Obi-Wan gasped in alarm, pulling himself out of his meditative state and desperately attempting to cloak his Force signature again.

Someone had sensed him. He was immediately filled with dread. He dashed away from the balcony and towards the senator's chambers with alarm. They had to hurry before whoever had seen him sensed his location. They needed to be on the move and far away from Padmé's apartment. He knocked on her door rapidly, calling her name in urgency.

She opened the door, draped in a black cloak to mirror his own, as she pulled up the hood and adjusted it he noticed she was wearing plain tan pants and a matching top underneath, looking exactly as that of a casual citizen. Her hair was no longer braided and pulled to one side under her dark hood. Her face was bare of any makeup and shaded by her cloak."What is it? I'm almost ready, I just have to put my boots on."

"We need to go, now. Someone has sensed me through the Force. A Sith." Obi-Wan told her, causing her to gape at him in horror. Padmé ran over to her closet and grabbed a pair of casual brown boots, hopping on one foot to slide on the first one.

"I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan." She said, her voice cracking slightly. He could sense the feeling of guilt within her multiplying.

"It'll be okay, Padmé. We just have to get out of this apartment before they realize where we are." Obi-Wan grabbed the heavy, body-filled suitcase from the dining room and urged Artoo to wait at the senator's apartment until they returned.

"We can't have you draw attention to us," Obi-Wan told the droid amidst his beeping protests. Artoo unwillingly agreed, beeping at them irritably as the pair rushed out the door, Obi-Wan in the lead and Padmé close behind him.

They walked briskly toward the lower levels, careful not to make eye contact with anyone passing by them. Two nobodies trying to blend into the buildings they passed. They said nothing to each other. Obi-Wan could feel Padmé's apprehension along with his own, along with her determination. He tried to continually hide his Force presence, and simultaneously try to think of what they were going to do with this suitcase. Perhaps they could switch it with another individual who was stopping in after work at the bar? Or leave it in the nearby alleyway?

"Do you have any ideas for an alibi?" Padmé whispered out of the side of her mouth, so quietly he could barely make out her words.

"On the other side of town." He uttered back, narrowing his eyes at that prospect.

"We'll have to steal a speeder at the Outlander." Padmé said plainly, "We won't have time to walk and have you out of here on time."

He slightly inclined his head when he felt her gaze on him, letting her know he agreed. They were playing a risky game. He had been sure he would be able to hide his presence as he was just one Jedi, actively hiding. However, someone strong had sensed him. They had been looking for him, specifically.

They walked in silence for several minutes before coming upon the club. Obi-Wan could hear the music thumping and loud chatter from across the street. He met Padmé's narrowed eyes and murmured. "Let's go inside, it's easier to hide in a large crowd."

The entered the crowded joint and headed straight for a corner table near the bar. A curvy twi'lek woman was singing throatily on a lit up stage, a merry band behind her. The bartender called out to them, to which they both ordered an ale to seem inconspicuous.

"We need to dump the body." Padmé murmured thoughtfully, "And then perhaps dump the suitcase somewhere else as we've been seen with it." She finished her ale without taking a breath and slammed it on the table. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at her.

"Don't you think you should stop drinking, Padmé? You finished a bottle of wine at the house already. It will impair you if we get into a worse situation." He took a small sip of his own beverage and let his eyes travel the room.

"I'll be fine Obi-Wan," Padmé assured him. "It gets lonely being a senator… I can hold my alcohol." She joked, although her face was slightly pink.

"Either way, make that your last one, milady. You have your blaster incase things go south?" Obi-Wan asked in reply. He hoped things would go smoothly, however he had sensed that the Sith he had envisioned was quite malevolent. Travel in and out of Coruscant had not been halted, which indicated the Force user hadn't alerted anyone else of his arrival to block him from leaving the planet. It was odd, very odd indeed. It was almost as if this person had a personal vendetta against him and didn't want any others hunting him down before they could reach him…

"Of course I do." Padmé assured him, her hand going instinctively to her hip where she holstered her weapon.

Obi-Wan stood up and grabbed hold of the suitcase, nodding to Padmé. "I'll be right back." He told her meaningfully, heading towards the men's fresher. She looked after him worriedly, but remained seated.

Obi-Wan entered the room, looking around for other occupants. He could sense there were two people using a stall in an unsavory manner. There was a high pitched squeaking noise filling the room from excessive movement against the stall door. The Jedi raised his hand, blushing and mildly annoyed, he said firmly. "You want to leave the fresher and join your friends on the dance floor."

The squeaking of the door stopped. There was silence. Momentarily he heard a female voice say, "I want to leave the fresher and join my friends on the dance floor."

"I hate dancing… but weirdly, I feel the desire to do that too!" A male voice responded in a mixture of confusion and excitement.

The two scoundrels slouched out of the fresher stall, both giving Obi-Wan a sheepish glance as they went to exit the room. "You will forget that you saw me here." He said, raising his hand again.

"We will forget that we saw you here." They murmured together, before exiting the fresher and heading undoubtedly towards the dance floor. Obi-Wan used the Force to lock the door behind them before gazing around the room. He immediately noticed a large vent in the upper corner of the room. Using the Force, he unscrewed the bolts holding it closed and caught the cover of the vent as it flew towards him. Unzipping the suitcase, he gagged a little as he looked at the deformed body that was starting to smell. He individually levitated each part of senator Clovis up to the vent and used the Force to shove it inside. He had to push a little extra hard to squeeze his torso into the vent. Obi-Wan swallowed the bile that had risen from his stomach. Quickly, he screwed the cover back on the vent, zipped up the empty bloodstained suitcase, and snuck out of the chamber.

"It's been disposed of." He said, trying to not look revolted when he returned to Padmé. She was biting her nails anxiously when he approached her at their table. "We need to get out of here. We can dump the suitcase on the way to visiting your potential alibi."

"Obi-Wan—Ben I mean," Padmé said, grabbing his hand and glancing around nervously. "I cannot thank you enough. I've committed an unspeakable crime and you've saved my life and reputation."

Obi-Wan jumped a little at the sudden contact, but squeezed her hand back and replied. "What are friends for?"

"I have not been a good friend," she said sadly, "I've put you at risk." Padmé looked away, but stood up so that they could exit the club.

"You would've done the same for me if the situation was reversed." Obi-Wan said gently. To this she smiled sarcastically.

"You mean if I was a Jedi Master on the run and you a rapist killing senator? Undoubtedly."

He laughed softly as they went to exit the building, their hoods covering their faces completely and their eyes down.

"I will repay you one day," Padmé vowed to him, her eyes scanning the parking lot. She suddenly pulled something out of her pocket and shook it in front of him. "While you were in the fresher I swiped us the keys to our new ride." Padmé pushed the starter button and a speeder from across the lot lit up.

"Well done." Obi-Wan said, thoroughly impressed. They boarded the speeder, a midline model that was a dark purple color and had a large scratch along the side, and Obi-Wan took off toward CoCo Town, where Dex's Diner was located.

* * *

**A/N: Two chapters in one day! Next chapter will be Ms. Amidala. However, the next _next_ chapter will be Vader. Goodnight, cruel world. **


	3. Dex’s Diner

Dex's Diner, the home of the shawda clubb sandwich. Padmé had her arms wrapped around Obi-Wan's waist as they weaved in and out of the city's traffic to reach the eatery. The acceleration from the speeder gave her the mock feeling of a Naboo breeze as they swiftly navigated towards Coco Town, an industrial area of the city. The nostalgia always hit her like a load of bricks whenever she was reminded of her home planet. A small voice in her head occasionally seemed to urge her to leave the political mess that was Coruscant behind and return to her family. A family she hadn't seen in almost two years. She knew the thought was only a fleeting one, as the strongest part of her soul knew she belonged here, fighting for the galaxy's right to a democracy.

She wondered where Obi-Wan had hidden Clovis's body. However, a tight feeling in her stomach led her to realize that she would rather not know the details. It would be easier to lie if she had less information to hide. She knew that as soon as the body was found, or as soon as Clovis was declared missing, talk of his death or disappearance would consume the senate. Many would be questioned, most likely including herself as it was known that her and Clovis had been acquaintances. She had a very strong resolve when it came to keeping her emotions in check, as a politician she needed to have a well developed poker face, as one never made it very far in this line of work without one. However, having less to conceal would undoubtedly be helpful in appearing innocent.

For the first time all night, Padmé had hope. They had made it this far without anything getting in their way. The Sith that Obi-Wan had seen during his vision had not found them. She was beginning to believe that they would make it out of this mess unscathed. She had buried her guilt after leaving the Outlander, knowing that if she continued to fixate on it that she would drown in a sea of emotions. It helped immensely that she was buzzed. She felt sufficiently numb enough to carry on until their mission was deemed a success. Her fear was for what came after the running and the fixing, when the full entirety of her emotions would surely hit her like a blaster to the chest.

But Padmé was strong, and she'd had a lot of practice in keeping her head in the most dangerous and dark situations. The empty suitcase was latched to the back of the purple speeder. While Obi-Wan had done the real dirty work of getting rid of the body, at least she had been useful with her ability to charm a stranger into comfortability and swipe the keys to his speeder. She had brought a pouch full of credits to exchange with Dexter Jettser for an alibi. He was an old friend of Obi-Wan's, and she was hoping he could be convinced.

Padmé had no idea what the time was when she felt Obi-Wan slow to a halt. Glancing up, she saw a mostly abandoned diner, however the light was still on. The streets were quite empty in this part of town, indicating that it must be very late. She adjusted her long black cloak as they jumped off the vehicle.

"What about the suitcase?" Padmé whispered to Obi-Wan as he began to walk towards the diner. It was currently still strapped to their stolen speeder and she felt apprehensive about leaving it. They had planned to get rid of it before arriving at the diner, and her anxiety was increasing as she felt they were running out of time to tie up loose ends.

"I've been thinking, we should leave it somewhere far from here, somewhere off of our trail. We don't want to leave a path from the Outlander to Dex's with this evidence left in between." Obi-Wan began, "I don't think it would be wise to bring it into Dex's either. Your reason for needing an alibi should remain between us. I'll… think of something to tell him."

"You think it'll be okay out here?" She asked skeptically, paranoia causing her stomach to do a backflip. They had parked around the back of the restaurant and the street was completely empty, however Padmé couldn't shake a nagging feeling that she had.

"I'll be able to feel if anyone comes near it or us." Obi-Wan assured her. Padmé felt stupid for a moment. Of course, the Force. She always seemed to forget about it in her panic. It must be nice to be a Jedi. She followed Obi-Wan towards the door of the diner, a delicious aroma causing her stomach to growl as they pushed their way inside. Padmé didn't remember the last time she had eaten. She ran around the Senate building all day long, attended a lengthy meeting, and then committed murder. There was no time for a meal within that exhausting equation.

The diner was void of any customers, except for a scruffy looking man snoring in a corner booth. A pretty blonde waitress stood at the counter, sipping coffee and listening intently to a waitress droid complain about the hooligan sleeping in their restaurant.

"Just because we're open twenty-four hours," The droid ranted, "Honestly, how inappropriate!"

"Oh Flo, I couldn't care less… as long as he tips." The blonde woman said with a shrug, just as her eyes fell upon the two hooded strangers approaching them. Her eyes lingered upon Obi-Wan as he approached her swiftly.

"I'm looking for Dex," Obi-Wan said simply, "I'm an old friend asking for a favor."

"An old friend, eh?" The waitress murmured, shamelessly staring at the man under the hood. "You look familiar, you do." She said, "I'm Hermione, and this here is Flo."

"You don't recognize me. We've never met before." Obi-Wan said calmly, raising his hand in what Padmé knew was a manipulation of the Force. She had seen the use of such Jedi mind tricks at the beginning of the Clone Wars, during questioning done when there had been traitors to the Republic rampant in the senate. What nobody had known, however, is that their very own Supreme Chancellor was the biggest threat to democracy they could have imagined. The old man was such a master manipulator and dangerous Sith lord that he was able to fool her, the rest of the senate, and even the Jedi masters. The memory of Palpatine's darkness being revealed caused a shiver down her spine, and the familiar feeling of guilt for her role in his ascension swirled around in her stomach. Remedying her mistake of trusting Darth Sidious was a deep need, and she would redeem herself if it was the last thing she did.

"I don't actually recognize you," Hermione said with a confused giggle, "My apologies, I must have been thinking of someone else." The use of the Force seemed to only mildly deter the woman. "I would like to know you, though." She continued flirtatiously. "It's not so often a mysterious stranger happens to walk into our diner past midnight."

Padmé cleared her throat, causing the waitress's eyes to flicker toward their other guest, a small blush spreading upon her cheeks.

"Two mysterious strangers, I believe my coworker meant." Flo said, eyeing Padmé and Obi-Wan with what was unmistakable suspicion. "Dex is in the back working on the books, who should I say is requesting him?"

"Ben Kenobi," Obi-Wan replied without skipping a beat. "A friend from before the Clone Wars." The droid nodded sharply at him before turning towards Padmé expectantly. "And my wife, Sarah." Obi-Wan interjected quickly before Padme had the chance to spin a story of fake identity. Flo nodded, before heading toward the back of the diner, where Dex was assumadely working away in his office space.

"Married, eh?" Hermione said disappointedly when they were alone, before eyeing Padme apologetically. "I'm sorry for coming on so strong, Mrs. Kenobi. You have a very handsome husband and you of course, are very beautiful."

Padme smirked at Obi-Wan, who shrugged back at her, a small smile tugging on the ends of his mouth. "It's quite alright," Padme said with a wave of her hand, "It happens all the time."

"Actually," Hermione began again, peering down at Padme, who responded by shaking her hood to hide her face better, "You remind me of that woman who's on the holonet all the time, that senator… where's she from?"

Padme swallowed the lump in her throat before giving a convincing laugh. "Why thank you, but I'm just a simple shopkeeper from Dantooine trying to create a better life for my children here in the capital."

"Good for you, ma'am." The waitress said, believing Padme's story. "It's hard out in those outer rim planets."

"Go home, Hermione." A friendly booming voice said from the window of the kitchen. "You've stayed late enough. I'll see you back in time for lunch tomorrow, eh?"

The loud but warm voice was coming from a large man of besalisk descent. The young waitress disappointedly began to gather her things to leave the restaurant, no doubt she was curious about what these so-called mysterious strangers wanted from the diner owner.

"Will do boss," Hermione replied, nodding to both Padmé and Obi-Wan. "Good luck with the shop, Mrs. Kenobi."

"Kenobi," Jettster repeated, a wide grin spreading across his face, "Now that's a name I haven't heard in years." He turned to the other waitress, Flo. "Flo, my dear, go work on some of those dishes in the back. I've got it from here." The droid looked like she wanted to argue, but cast an annoyed look at the sole customer in the corner of the restaurant and relented.

"Come get me if there's any other customers." She said sternly, before spinning around and walking to the back of the kitchen.

A moment of silence followed after Flo's departure, in which Dex stared curiously at both Padmé and Obi-Wan before saying gruffly, "However, the Kenobi I once knew wasn't interested in such things as marriage. It was against the code he followed."

Obi-Wan removed his hood tentatively, revealing the auburn of his hair and beard. Instantly Jettster let out a loud laugh, moving to embrace the Jedi. Obi-Wan returned the action with a smile, "Dex, it's been too long."

"Yes, much too long." The besalisk agreed, "I'm glad to see you survived the purge. Nasty thing it was. It's not the same out here anymore."

At the mention of the slaughter of the Jedi a sad silence fell over the group before Obi-Wan agreed quietly. "That it isn't."

"And who is this?" Jettster turned his attention towards Padmé, who met his gaze and straightened after a reassuring look from Obi-Wan.

"Padmé Amidala Naberrie, Senator of Naboo." She said, offering her hand to him. The besalisk took her hand, and placed a dry kiss on it with his wide reptilian mouth.

"Senator, eh? And a former queen." He murmured, his eyes returning to his Jedi friend. "What sort of business are you involving me in, Obi-Wan?"

"I've come for a favor." Obi-Wan began, "I know you repaid your debt to me long ago, but I ask to put myself in yours."

Dex stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes darting to the man still sleeping in the corner of the diner. He walked over to the first booth and began to close the blinds, just to have all the blinds around the shop gracefully close simultaneously. Dex jumped, clutching his chest, before letting out a deep laugh and turning to wag his finger at Obi-Wan.

"Jedi," He huffed humorously, "It's been so long since I've seen such tricks."

Obi-Wan smiled politely, "So you're open to the discussion, I take it?"

Padmé held her breath, trying not to betray the stoic expression on her face with the desperation she felt.

"Jawa juice?" Dex replied with a grin, gesturing for Padmé and Obi-Wan to take a seat at one of the tables. Padmé studied her Jedi friend, who seemed to take this gesture as a good sign and nodded agreeably. She followed his lead, forcing a smile and sitting down stiffly while Jettster returned to the back of the restaurant, presumably to get their drinks.

Padmé and Obi-Wan stared at each other, communicating silently. She raised an eyebrow and jerked her head towards where the besalisk had exited, to which Obi-Wan moved his head and hands from left to right to imitate the tilting of a scale, stopping exactly a second before Dex walked back through the doorway brandishing beverages.

Padmé waited to take a drink until both of the men at the table had done so, and then slowly brought the juice to her lips. She waited for Obi-Wan or Dex to begin their negotiation. The beverage was native to the outer rim, specifically Tatooine. She had never had it in the capital. In the silence, her memory drifted back to when she, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon Jinn had been forced to land on the sad planet when escaping Naboo during the invasion of Nute Gunray. The image of a young slave boy floated to the forefront of her brain. She pushed the image away, sadly, not wanting to think of the tragedy.

"So, a favor?" Dex said gruffly, disrupting her thoughts of Tatooine and its inhabitants. Padmé's eyes flickered from Dex to Obi-Wan anxiously.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, leaning forward and clasping his hands. "The senator," he gestured to Padmé, "needs an alibi for tonight."

"An alibi, eh?" Dex laughed darkly, "What's the occasion?" He eyed Padmé with curiosity. She remained silent, following Obi-Wan's direction to allow him to do the talking.

"Our discretions are our own," Obi-Wan said firmly, "We'll compensate you extra for complying to that."

Taking that as her cue, Padmé pulled out the fat coin purse from under her cloak and dropped it on the table with a thump. Dex eyed the satchel hungrily, before turning to Padmé.

"Imperial credits?" He asked, raising a brow.

"Of course." She replied, taking another sip of her drink nonchalantly.

"You must be hiding something big." Dex said, narrowing his eyes as he stared at her, "A senator calls upon the help of a Jedi… that'll be for nothing minor."

Padmé said nothing, and with a shrug went to remove the coin purse from the table in a bluff, to which Jettster cleared his throat loudly.

"Now hold on a second," He said with a grin, "That doesn't mean I'm not game. It just means we'll need a good story."

Padmé sighed with relief, removing a shaking hand from the table and resting it on her lap.

"Luckily," Obi-Wan began, "I've already thought of a possible story."

"Of course you have." Padmé said softly with a smirk. Obi-Wan returned the look and cleared his throat.

"Do you like art, Dex?" the Jedi began slyly.

"As much as the next man, of course." Dex replied, leaning in interestedly.

Padmé crossed her arms, listening intently.

"Padmé is an artist." Obi-Wan replied, "A magnificent one. Her talent is unbeknownst to the galaxy."

Although mildly surprised at this declaration, Padmé said nothing, shrugging as Jettster looked to her for confirmation.

"I like to paint." Padmé nodded finally after a moment of silence. She shot Obi-Wan a confused look as Jettster turned away from her to look back at the Jedi as well.

"Continue, Obi-Wan." Dex continued casually, peering over Obi-Wan's shoulder to check on the status of his sleeping customer. The man was still asleep but had stopped snoring, leaving their conversation to be the only sound in the room.

"She could display some paintings here, it'd be good for business. Perhaps you were meeting to discuss the details earlier tonight." Obi-Wan finished simply. Dex continued to look perplexed as he stroked his chin, head tilted.

"How would it align that I would choose here to unveil my never-before-seen artwork? What would be an appropriate answer to give during interrogation?" Padmé said, feeling uncomfortable with this plan and showing off her personal artwork in general.

"Besides your enjoyment of the taste of the cuisine, the food also reminds you of a lovely trip we took to Tatooine many years ago." Obi-Wan said, eyes sparkling. Funnily enough, the juice alone had done that exact thing to Padmé, and although she wouldn't by any means call their stay on Tatooine 'lovely,' she agreed silently, knowing that it could be verified by the emperor that she had hidden out on Tatooine for a brief period of time while on the run from the Trade Confederation.

"Also," Obi-Wan continued, "We're in an industrial area of Coruscant. You want the city's hardworking folk to have the privilege of viewing your art affordably, and you recommend grabbing a bite while they do so."

Padmé opened and closed her mouth, knowing she must look quite like a fish. "I suppose it could work." She said, "We met tonight to discuss details in your office, around dinnertime, let's say 7pm." It was early evening when she had met with Clovis, the sun had only just set.

"When would you be presenting your artwork in my restaurant then, Senator?" Jettster asked interestedly, pulling her bag of credits towards him and peering inside, his eyes gleaming.

"How about next weekend?" Obi-Wan interjected to Padmé's chagrin. "It gives her time to decide on a few pieces and also time for you to advertise."

Padmé said nothing, annoyed that Obi-Wan had not briefed her of this plan before they had arrived. She assumed he had figured she'd be on the edge about it and therefore didn't want her to dismiss the idea before he had time to pitch it to Dex. His cleverness could be just as irritating as it was helpful.

"What say you, Senator Amidala?" Jettster asked throatily, offering his large hand to her in an attempt to shake. "Do we have a deal?"

Padmé, being no idiot, knew that this was her only choice and although she had never planned on the public viewing her artwork, decided it wasn't the worst sacrifice to her pride.

"Indeed," she replied, intertwining her dainty hand with Jettser's enormous one and shaking firmly.

They were then interrupted by a slight scuffling coming from the back of the restaurant. The formerly asleep citizen had awoken and was digging for payment within his pockets.

"Sorry mate," He said sheepishly to Dex, his voice slurred from probably having a few drinks earlier in the night. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on ya, I'll leave a tip for the lady."

Padmé and Obi-Wan adjusted their cloaks, carefully concealing their faces as sufficiently as possible.

"It's no problem, friend." Jettster replied loudly with a chuckle. "We're living in tiring times, I know."

With no more than a slight glance at Padmé and Obi-Wan, the stranger exited the diner, taking no notice of the suspicious circumstances surrounding him.

Padmé looked to Obi-Wan with a raised brow, concerned for the stranger's sighting of them. The Jedi seemed unbothered of the man's leaving, consoling Padmé that he wasn't a threat to their mission.

"Well, we better be off." Obi-Wan said. "I can't thank you enough Dex, I owe you one."

Jettster laughed, picking up a credit and twirling it in his fingers. "That you do, Jedi. Leave me your contact information senator, we will see each other again soon enough."

Padmé jotted down the signal to her comlink as Obi-Wan and Dex embraced once more.

"Someday, I hope to see the Jedi return to protect the capital," Dex said passionately, "and rid us of these Inquisitors. They rule by instilling fear, it makes most of us realize how we took the Jedi's fight for peace for granted."

Obi-Wan nodded in gratitude. "Light will eventually win over dark, it always does."

Padmé wondered if he actually believed that. She frequently told herself the same thing in order to keep fighting against the dictatorship of the senate.

Obi-Wan gestured for Padmé to follow him, and with a final thank you to Jettster, they both exited the diner, Obi-Wan raising the blinds all around as they did so to advertise to any late night customers that the diner was indeed open.

They approached their speeder in the darkness, a large weight off of both of their shoulders.

"Thank you, again, Obi-Wan." Padmé said softly as they began to board. "I owe you immensely."

"Although the Order has been destroyed, I am still a Jedi. It is my duty to help those in need. Even morally ambiguous senators." He joked.

"I wouldn't say a murderer is morally ambiguous." Padmé huffed, rolling her eyes but feeling defeated.

"I disagree, shockingly enough." Obi-Wan said softly, before switching on the speeder. Suddenly, he froze.

His head perked up, staring with wide eyes into the darkness. Padmé felt a chill come over her, a drop in temperature. The night felt much colder than it should. It appeared to be much darker than a moment ago.

"We are being tracked." Obi-Wan said with alarm, "We need to get away from here, throw whoever's looking for us off course."

He accelerated the speeder and took off into the night, Padmé holding onto him tightly.

"The Sith?" She called over his shoulder, to which he didn't respond, only pressing harder on the gas of the vehicle, taking them far over the speed limit to another area of town.

They drove frantically to the opposite side of the industrial part of the city, not stopping for anything and going around any traffic with ease. When Obi-Wan slowed down it was in a very desolate area of town, covered in abandoned factories with sleeping homeless littering the streets. It appeared to be a good place to get rid of the incriminating suitcase that they still had tied to the back of their speeder.

"Should we drop the suitcase here?" Padmé called loudly to Obi-Wan over the sputtering of the engine.

"Wait until we get into this alley up ahead!" Obi-Wan replied. A few moments later they came to an abrupt stop. "We must hurry, before he finds us."

"Who?" Padmé asked, frightened. "Who has you so shaken, Obi-Wan?"

The Jedi didn't answer right away as he hopped down from the speeder and began to untie the suitcase. Padmé studied his state. His shoulders were tight, his mouth set in a straight line, ears perked for any sense of danger.

"Someone very dangerous, Padmé." He replied hesitantly, "A presence I faintly recognize but cannot place. The Force has warned me not to engage with him. He is strong, his presence is surrounded by the Dark side."

Padmé frowned. "Someone you recognize? Maybe a Jedi who turned after the purge?"

"I do not know." Obi-Wan said softly. "Stay on the speeder, I'll be back." He lifted the large suitcase with ease and faded into the darkness of the alley.

Padmé sat on the speeder, shivering. The capital had never felt so cold to her. She felt exposed out in the open, parked just outside of the dark alleyway. The area of the city they were in reeked of poverty, and the abandoned factories with busted windows and graffiti walls were particularly melancholy in the chill of the night.

Several moments passed, and she debated trailing after Obi-Wan. He had been gone longer than necessary, and she was beginning to worry. A terrified shiver traveled up her spine as she scanned the area surrounding her, seeing nobody insight. She felt as if she was being watched, and the paranoia of being hunted was getting to her. Was she alone still, or was she in unsavory company? Where was Obi-Wan? In her anxious state she had a perturbed concept of time. Had he been gone five minutes? Fifteen?

Staring down the alleyway, Padmé felt a squirming feeling in her stomach. Something was wrong. He should be back by now. If he was attacked, she would have heard it, wouldn't she? Deciding she couldn't just sit and wait after another chunk of time passed, Padmé hopped down from the speeder nimbly, trying her best not to make any unnecessary noise. She placed her hand on her blaster, before taking a deep breath and taking her first few steps down the alleyway. She could barely see a foot in front of her. Padmé stayed close to one side of the wall, one of her hands using it for balance as she continued down the path Obi-Wan had gone. The alley was between two large factories, she had no idea how far it stretched.

The temperature seemed to drop further as she carried on, she wanted to call out to Obi-Wan in the darkness, but a terrified voice in her head warned her strongly against it.

Five hundred in front of her in the darkness, there was a deep familiar hum. Her heart stopped momentarily, and she pushed herself firmly back against the wall, concealing herself as best as possible while still using her peripheral vision to take in the sight. The humming was of a lightsaber being ignited. It gleamed blood red. She held her breath. Momentarily the red saber was joined by the clashing of a familiar green, of Obi-Wan's.

They battled furiously, impossibly quick and flexible. Padmé watched from her hiding place, unable to see the wielders of the weapons, only the twirling and blurred motion of their weapons. She realized she hadn't breathed in awhile as she became lightheaded.

She needed a plan. How could she help Obi-Wan while cowering in the corner? She knew she was no match for a Sith, and if she jumped into the action the chances of her deterring Obi-Wan was just as great as her being of any help. She slowly pulled her blaster out of her robes, holding it firmly. She needed to get closer, so that she could have a cleaner shot of the Sith if he were to wound Obi-Wan. Padmé would be his backup, regardless if he agreed to it or not. She could not let Obi-Wan die when he was only here to help her. He was essential to the Rebellion, he was one of the only remaining Jedi, and he was far more important to the ending of the Empire than even herself.

She continued to feel the wall as she glided forward, slowly, her hands came to rest upon a door handle. She logged the feeling of the object into her brain as a possible escape maneuver. Brushing past it, she continued on, not wanting to get too close to the battle or draw attention to herself. She was surprised the two Force users had yet to feel her presence. She assumed it was because they were using all of their power to destroy each other, not paying mind to the possibility of her appearance.

She watched in awe as they ruthlessly stabbed, spun, and danced around each other, a mix of red and green light and deafening hums. Her concept of time had not returned, and she lost track of how long she stood motionless, watching them, her finger on the trigger of her blaster. Every so often she would continue forward a few steps, and then return to cowering against the wall, not wanting to give up her position. The situation had completely sobered her, and her body was in instinct mode.

She was around one hundred feet away from the scene when there was a surprised yell, a familiar voice in pain, and the sound of a body hitting a wall with the intensity of a Force push. It was Obi-Wan. His lightsaber fell to the ground, and rolled a few feet away. The holder of the red saber stalked towards him, and Padmé knew this was her moment, she raised her blaster, imagining where an arm may end after the hilt of the saber and sent a few shots out at the Sith in the darkness, luckily landing at least one of them.

The man swore in pain. The saber turned towards her. She began to back away, her hand still on the wall, feeling numbly for the doorknob she had discovered earlier. She watched with relief as Obi-Wan's lightsaber shot up into the air, towards the roof of one of the factories. He had gotten away in her distraction.

"I will kill your friend painfully, Jedi." The Sith snarled angrily, "And then I will come back for you!"

The enemy sheathed his weapon, making him completely invisible in the darkness. Padmé gasped in alarm as she heard the soft sound of footsteps. She turned around completely and began sprinting, her hand still grazing the wall desperately for the door she had felt earlier.

Finally, her small hand clasped around the handle, praying that it was unlocked. She swung it open, and walked inside, hitting a staircase immediately. She ran up it as fast as she could, knowing there was no way she could outrun a Sith Lord for long. At least Obi-Wan had gotten away. She hoped he would leave her and escape. His life meant more than hers. She deserved this for involving him in her affairs. Padmé reached the top of the stairs when she heard the creaking of someone following her effortlessly.

"You can run," The cold voice laughed tauntingly. "Just know I will catch you. Do you hear that Jedi? I'm going to play with your friend before I kill her."

Padmé felt around in the dark at the top of the stairs for a place to hide. The roof was blown off the top of the building, the stars illuminating dusty machinery. Padmé darted through the maze of broken technology before crawling underneath one of the long rickety tables littering the room and huddling in a corner, her knees tucked. She held her breath as she felt the cold darkness of the Sith stalking her.

"I can feel you." He whispered ominously. "I could find you easily, even if I was both deaf and blind." She could see a pair of black boots illuminated in the moonlight of the open roof, about ten feet away from her, facing the opposite way. Padmé placed a shaky hand over her mouth, not wanting him to hear her gasp for air. Maybe she deserved this after what she did. She was a murderer, perhaps this was her penance.

The table Padmé was under flew into the air and smashed into the wall behind her, causing chunks of wood to rain down upon her. She let out an involuntary scream as she was lifted into the air and thrown across the room. Her body hitting a hard metal machine was the only thing that stopped her from flying out of the building to her doom, a large hole in the wall exposing the night just a few feet beyond her.

She cried out in pain, trying desperately to move but finding she was unable. Suddenly she was hovering upright, facing a dark looming figure. Her vision was blurry from hitting her head, and she tried to steady it to view her attacker. He illuminated his lightsaber, giving her a better view in the darkness. He was taller than most men, intimidatingly so. His shoulders were broad, and he was sheathed in all black, a long cloak streaming out behind him. His face was covered by a dark hood and mask, leaving only his eyes unveiled. They were the unnatural golden color of the Sith. They glowed like small burning suns, glaring at her with hatred. She felt an invisible hand close around her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her hands flew to her neck, desperately trying to peel his invisible clutches off her, although knowing it was impossible as he was using the Force and not even really touching her.

She was tempted to beg for her life. However, she knew this Sith had no mercy. Padmé Amidala would die with integrity, she decided, closing her eyes and succumbing to her fate.

"I want to see your fear when I kill you, foolish woman." He murmured darkly, and with a flick of his wrist he caused the hood of her cloak to go flying backwards, exposing her face.

The next thing she knew Padmé was on her knees, gasping for breath. Her hands went to her throat in surprise. Her head snapped up to look at the man in shock. He had moved several feet backwards and had lowered the hand he was using to Force choke her as if he had been burned.

They stared at each other, motionless for several moments. Golden eyes locked with wide brown ones, a strange feeling in the air between them.

"What—" She managed to sputter after the silence became uncomfortable. She was interrupted by the sound of a thud as the Sith hit a wall on the opposite side of the room, letting out a furious growl.

"Padmé we need to jump!" Obi-Wan was lifting her from her kneeling position. She stared confusedly at him.

"Obi-Wan?"

"There isn't any time!" He exclaimed, "He won't be down for long."

Padmé shot a glance back at the Sith, who was using the Force to remove the rubble of the factory that had landed upon him, as Obi-Wan grabbed her hand and leapt through the hole of the building. Padmé fell freely through the air, unable to process what was happening anymore. She was alive?

She landed more nimbly than she would have thought possible, most definitely due to the Jedi beside her. He picked her up and began running at a speed that would be impossible for her to match, towards the speeder at the end of the alley. She heard the footsteps of someone running behind them faintly.

Finally they reached the speeder, she climbed up with numb limbs behind Obi-Wan, grasping him around the middle as the vehicle came to life and they began flying through the sky. She closed her eyes, feeling dissociated from the present. She was with Obi-Wan. They were alive.

Padmé didn't open her eyes again until they came to a stop on the balcony of her apartment.

"He's bound to be tracking me still. I need to get far away from here to get you out of danger. I managed to blow up his speeder before finding you, it should save us some time." Obi-Wan said calmly, offering Padmé a hand down from the vehicle. She gratefully took it, ignoring the fact that when her legs hit the ground they felt like jello.

"Padmé, tomorrow you'll need to get rid of the speeder as it's probably reported stolen by now, or will be within a few hours. Artoo," he called inside to the droid, who came whirling out of Padmé's apartment immediately and beeped loudly at him, probably demanding to know where he'd been and what took so long. "Not now," Obi-Wan said irritably, "I need you to disable any tracking device in this speeder."

The droid beeped in annoyance before attaching his antenna to a port on the vehicle and destroying any ability for the speeder to be tracked. He completed the task quickly before beeping more questions at Obi-Wan.

"I need to leave," Obi-Wan said urgently to Padmé, ignoring the droid, "Before the Sith informs anyone of my presence and measures are instilled making me unable to travel off the planet."

Padmé nodded in agreement. "Of course," She breathed hurriedly, "Get out while you still can, Obi-Wan."

"There should be no reason for the Sith to come here if my presence exiting the planet distracts him. I've cloaked our trail here the best I can. I will leave Artoo with you, for protection. I wish you the best of luck, Padmé." The Jedi pulled her in for a tight hug. "I will be attending the next Rebellion meeting, most likely via hologram. I will see you then."

"I can't thank you enough." Padmé whispered against his shoulder, her eyes blurred from threatening tears.

"I will always come to your aid." Obi-Wan said firmly. She could tell he truly meant it.

"And I to yours." She replied back truthfully, squeezing his hand as he pulled away. "May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan."

He smiled back at her, but it didn't quite reach his cerulean blue eyes. "May the Force be with you, Padmé."


	4. Darth Vader

_Pain._ An onslaught of violent images flooded his mind, feeding his soul with darkness. The memory of screams, his own and those of his unfortunate victims, echoed deliriously, thumping against his eardrums in rhythm with the beating of his heart.

_Anger._ The humming of a lightsaber, releasing the toxicity inside himself as he cut down enemies with rage. The euphoria of winning. The unparalleled freedom of the Dark side.

Pain. Anger. _Power._

"Lord Vader," a cautious voice interrupted his meditation. His high faded almost instantly. Vader's nostrils flared as he heaved a great sigh, refusing to open his eyes or move out of his relaxed position, his back facing the intruder. He could feel the trespasser's fear growing. Although Vader had not said a word, he knew the power of his anger was so strong it was effectual to most, even those lacking a connection to the Force. His connection was strong enough for the entire planet to sense his rage, pain, and hatred. The fear of the people in this galaxy was a delightful drug, heightening the exhilaration of the Dark side.

"What could possibly be so important that you would interrupt me here, in the sacred temple, Admiral." Vader's voice held the threat it always did. He did not like to be disturbed, not ever. He much preferred solitude when he wasn't going over battle plans and barking orders.

Piett cleared his throat and replied more shakily, "It's The Executor, Lord Vader."

Darth Vader gritted his teeth with impatience. "What about my ship, Admiral?" He asked loudly, his head snapping to the side to suddenly glare out of the corner of his eye at the man whom he usually regarded with respect. Admiral Piett had proven himself useful, especially since taking the place of his incompetent predecessor; however, that didn't mean that Vader allowed him any more slack than the rest of his troops. Ignorance and failure deserved punishment, regardless of the individual's accomplishments.

"A few rebels had managed to get aboard in your absence—"

Before Piett could finish speaking, he began to choke, grasping at his throat in alarm. "Lord Vader—sir—"

Vader had turned back, facing away from the sputtering man. "I am displeased." He hissed, before relinquishing his hold around the man's throat using the Force. He allowed Piett a moment to gather himself as he gasped for air loudly.

"We were able to detain and imprison them, of course." Admiral Piett recovered quickly, hoping to appease the ruthless Sith Lord before him.

"Good." Vader replied evenly, "Interrogate them. Have IT-O accompany you. I will return later this evening and complete the job if you fail." His voice continually held it's threat, although his anger had subsided slightly with the news of capture.

"The torture droid?" Piett asked timidly, "Do we really need a machine to do a man's job? I assure you, sir, I am more than capable—"

"Are you questioning me, Admiral?" Vader demanded, tilting his head slightly in intimidation, still greatly annoyed at Piett's presence interrupting his sacred alone time. He spoke to the rock wall in front of him, eyes closed once more.

"Of course not, sir." Piett said hurriedly. "IT-O and I will complete the task successfully."

"Hmm." Vader replied nonchalantly. "Yes, you will. And Admiral?"

"Yes, Lord Vader?" Piett replied immediately, relieved at the civil turn the conversation had taken.

"Never underestimate a droid." Vader said calmly. "Leave me, now."

The shuffling footsteps retreated until he was alone in silence once more. He was irritated; at Piett, for stepping foot in the sacred Sith temple that now stood once more where it had centuries ago; before the Jedi had destroyed it and built their own over the ashes. He was irritated at the idiocy of the rebels; how could they possibly think they would be successful in invading his own personal dreadnought? It was one of the largest and most powerful vessels ever built and was highly occupied with troopers and battle droids. Did they not fear him? They would, after this. They had interrupted his meditation, an important ritual needed to recharge and refocus his energy, to strengthen his relationship with the Dark side of the Force.

He sighed, debating just extinguishing the candles surrounding him and meeting with his master early. This was why he was not to be disturbed during meditation. Once he was distracted, it was impossible for him to return to a relaxed state. Vader knew he should connect with the Force again, and decided to try to get his mind back into focus by searching the Force for any remaining Jedi or Force Sensitives. Wayward Force users were the biggest threat to the empire; they were much more concerning than the citizens and their pathetic Rebellion.

Searching for Jedi to hunt was his favorite pastime. Although, there was one Jedi he craved to destroy more than any other. He despised Obi-Wan Kenobi almost as much as he hated his master. There was perhaps one other man who hated Kenobi more than Vader, but he remained caged deep within the depths of the temple, haunted by his defeat. Vader hadn't seen Kenobi since he was that boy slave on Tatooine; promised by Qui-Gon Jinn to be trained to become a Jedi Master, proclaimed to be the Chosen One that would save them all. His past was sickening; the idea of him becoming the very thing he hated most especially. Kenobi had been Jinn's apprentice when he had been killed by Maul a decade ago. A decade since he had been taken from his mother and trained to become a Sith Lord. A decade to hate the Jedi for their lies of what his life would become, their weaker way of channeling the Force, and all of their restricting rules and codes.

He had cried for the help of the Jedi when he was Skywalker. For the help of Queen Amidala. For the help of his late mother, Shmi. He wasn't weak anymore. Darth Vader needed no one. He knew he was the most powerful Force user to ever live. He was aware that his raw power outmatched the Emperor. However, his master had not become emperor of the galaxy by sheer luck. Palpatine was a dangerous man not only because he was strong with the Force, but because he was cunning. Vader knew that one day he would kill Sidious and rule his Empire, but that day had not yet arrived.

Vader knew that Kenobi had survived the purge of the Jedi. He had not seen him among the bodies of the dead. Palpatine's execution of Order 66 was the introduction of Darth Vader to the rest of the world. After years of waiting, watching, and suffering he was released of his shackles and unleashed into the world to do Sidious's bidding. One day he wouldn't be anyone's slave, he would be free and in control of not only his own actions but of the entire universe. His hatred of politics stemmed originally from the senate's inability to abolish slavery, something that seemed quite simple. However, when you have a circle full of self-serving senators all debating about some of the most seemingly straightforward of topics, nothing ever gets done. Thus, the need for an empire. The republic was useless and cluttered; The empire brought about movement much more efficiently. Although he highly anticipated killing his master and taking the galaxy for himself, the idea of participating in any sort of political rambling disgusted Vader.

"Where are you, Kenobi?" Vader murmured under his breath, focusing his energy on one of the only rumored surviving Jedi Masters. His mind was a maze of images. He numbly banished the harrowing, blurred picture of his mother immediately, his brain jumping quickly to the memory of Qui-Gon telling him he was free, that he would become a Jedi. He pushed further, to that of the battle between Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Maul on Naboo.

_"Ani, no!" The angel called after him, "It's not safe!" He looked into the brown eyes glistening with fear one last time before he sprinted after Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to the maintenance levels of the palace of Theed, a strange feeling calling to him as it had many times in his young life. The horned man was here to kill the angel, and he had to help the Jedi. He didn't want to lose any of his new family, they were all he had now that he had left his mother. He vowed silently for the hundredth time to return to Tatooine once he became a Jedi to free her._

Vader reminded his foolish childhood memory that there are no angels, only demons. The queen he'd long forgotten was nothing but a shadow he avoided at all cost, the Jedi had forsaken him and were his natural enemy, and Shmi Skywalker was the mother of a boy who had died many years ago.

_His mind flashed to seeing the zabrak cut through Qui-Gon Jinn with his double-sided saber as he stood paralyzed behind a force field several feet behind Obi-Wan, who was also trapped hopelessly to watch the death of a man they both cherished._

_"No!" They yelled in unison. Through his distress__, the Jedi in front of him turned around to face Anakin in surprise and horror._

_"Anakin, no! Go back to Padmè, you both must run!"_

_It was too late, the Zabrak had already settled his eyes upon young Anakin, who raised his blaster, to fire shots upon the man who had killed and continually threatened to kill those who he cared for; and of destroying his opportunity to become powerful enough to save his mother and other innocents from the torment of slavery._

His memory faded in and out, he was hit with each vision as though being stabbed by shards of a past life. He had experienced too much pain as Anakin Skywalker, so Darth Vader had buried the weakness somewhere far below consciousness, deep within a vault inside of a fortress.

_Kenobi had Force pushed him far from the battle, he had hit his head and been momentarily swayed, his blaster lay several feet away. The two Force users in front of him fought mercilessly, their taunts to each other were muffled in the boy's ears. Among the venom he heard most clearly, "His fear is strong, and anger even stronger, perhaps the Dark side would suit the boy better?"_

_"My master believed him the Chosen One, you shall not harm him, not while I'm still living. The Sith will die, and light will prevail." Obi-Wan spat venomously, just as Anakin sat up to see him deliver quick offensive blows to the Sith Lord._

_The zabrak stumbled backward, a dark laugh exiting his barred teeth, "You became a much worthier opponent after I killed your elderly master, perhaps the Dark side suits you as well, Kenobi!"_

_The battle had raged around Anakin as he finally found himself able to move. He was crawling towards his blaster, determined to help Obi-Wan avenge Qui-Gon and protect the queen._

His memory zapped, reminiscent of the lightning used to make him forget._ He was now looking down the generator in terror, Obi-Wan dangled dangerously and he was certainly also facing his own death nose to nose. Maul had summoned Anakin's blaster after kicking Kenobi's saber into the pit and watching it disappear. Anakin backed away slowly as the Sith made his way towards him, thinking that at least his mother would believe he had made it to safety and was living his life of freedom._

_He was in free__ fall._ Zap. _Kenobi had flown up through the generator._ Zap. _Maul shrieking in agony._ Zap. _More free-falling._ He was unsure which event had even come first, only that they all grazed his brain in a dreamlike mess.

Darth Vader pulled himself from the past, not needing to relive what happened next, honing in on the energy of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Jedi's presence within the Force was again fresh to Vader. Although meditating had never been his strongest ability due to his impatience, his focus on the memory of Obi-Wan, and his hatred of the man, made it easy to remain idle and open.

After a few moments of probing the galaxy through the Force, he was struck almost immediately with an image of an aged but familiar man standing gracefully on the edge of a balcony, his eyes closed in an identical meditative state to Vader himself. Obi-Wan Kenobi was on Coruscant.

The peaceful expression that rested upon Kenobi's face vanished, as though aware of Vader's hate surrounding him and eyes peering around the blur of his surroundings. Kenobi's eyes flew open, meeting Vader's piercing gaze in astonishment.

"Jedi…" Vader hissed in fury, feeling the walls within the Sith temple begin to quake in his response. His connection to Kenobi vanished instantly, as the other man had presumably cut the cord to their communication and cloaked his presence. Vader swore, standing swiftly, waving his hand to extinguish all the candles surrounding him, leaving him alone with his anger in complete darkness.

Kenobi was on Coruscant. Darth Vader was going to kill him.

Vader prowled the dark streets of the city, those who remained out on the town staying a safe distance away instinctively. He took large and unwavering strides towards the lower levels, the areas that many considered unsavory because of their high crime and poverty rates.

Kenobi's trail was highly muffled. Vader spent what felt like hours moving in swift circles, growing more agitated each minute he was unable to sense an exact location of Kenobi. He was already late to meet his master, an act that surely would result in punishment. However, Vader knew that his destruction of Kenobi was a mission he needed to take alone. He did not desire to involve Sidious in this matter and would prefer him to be unaware of his plans. His master would not control him in regards to his revenge. Vader needed this.

The Force eventually brought him upon the doorstep of the Outlander, much to his chagrin. Vader despised idiots, and therefore he very much despised drunks. He crinkled his nose in disgust at the odor of stale smoke. It was crowded, loud, and it reeked of desperation. He ignored the band and the scantily clad twi'lek dancer, lurking around the corners of the room, eyes peeled for the sight of the Jedi. Why Kenobi would come to such a place was beyond Vader, his only logical explanation was because it would be a place Vader would not think to look.

"You look familiar," a slurred voice proclaimed from a table nearby. "I saw yer' on the holonet, I did."

Ignoring the interruption, Vader began to stalk towards the sound of a resonating yell coming from a table near the far corner of the bar. Perhaps it was a clue to the whereabouts of Kenobi, although he thoroughly doubted the Jedi would dare to draw so much attention to himself. It was more than likely drunk idiots being drunk idiots. However, the Force nagged him to investigate the situation, and he always followed the orders of the Force.

"You're Darth Vader, the Emperor's second'n'command, aren't ya?" The voice continued, seemingly intent on pushing the Sith past his patience.

Vader turned to glare at the man, his hood covering his face and mask, except for his glaring yellow orbs which glowed dangerously from beneath his cloak. The man crumpled as his eyes met Vader's, looking immediately to the lightsaber hooked intimidatingly at his belt. Those who had been dancing around him had stopped, shrinking as far away as possible. Vader said nothing, stalking past them, swearing to himself he would snap the neck of the next drunk who dared to speak to him. The task at hand was too integral for him to be interrupted by blabbering oafs who thought him some sort of celebrity because of his appearance on the holonet. He hated the reporters his master forced him to interact with after conquests.

"That whore stole the keys to my speeder!" A gravelly voice sputtered. Vader approached the angry man silently, observing his conversation with his fellow bar mate uninterestedly.

His friend howled with laughter. "The one with the bearded fella? Oy Reid, ya should've known she was scamming ya if she was with a man like that."

"He was shady acting, that's for sure." Reid agreed, taking a gulp of his ale in exasperation. "Now what'll I tell the wife? Coming home with no speeder? I can't very well tell her the truth, can I?"

The two drunken men stiffened as they felt Vader's dark presence looming over them. He stood closely behind them, and didn't move as they turned around to face him grimly.

"Who—who are you?" The man named Reid asked gruffly, trying to maintain an air of confidence and failing. His friend who hadn't been named stared at Vader with a clenched jaw.

"That does not matter." He said smoothly, his predatory voice causing them to shiver. "I believe the individuals you were speaking of are who I am looking for."

"The—the whore who stole my speeder?" Reid replied, looking up at Vader but avoiding his yellow eyes.

"Perhaps," Vader murmured, "However, who I seek is her companion."

"The bearded bloke? He came in here with a big hulking suitcase, they both were wearing dark cloaks. I didn't get much of a sight of him besides that." Reid answered hurriedly, eager to have Vader far away from him.

"How long were they here?" Vader continued. Many people were watching him, he could feel the terror and recognition swirling around him. Nobody wanted Darth Vader to notice them.

"I do not know." Reid said, shriveling away. Vader raised his hand swiftly, his hand closing around the man's throat without touching him. The man began to cough in alarm, his hands flailing around his neck hopelessly. Vader looked to Reid's friend expectantly.

"How long?" He repeated, maintaining his grasp. He could feel that the other man knew the answer to his question.

"Less than an hour!" He answered hurriedly, "Please, let him down! He has a family that depends on him!"

Vader held his grasp a few moments longer before lazily dropping his hand and allowing Reid to fall back into his chair, gasping for air.

"How long ago did the bearded man leave?" He asked evenly, ignoring the loud gasps in front of him.

"Half an hour ago," the second man answered again in relief, eyeing his friend worriedly. "The speeder they stole was purple. There's a long scratch along the side."

Vader turned away wordlessly and began for the door. He was not far behind them. A half an hour isn't a lot of time to make up for. He just needed to continue quickly on Kenobi's trail before the Jedi had a chance to exit the planet and escape his attack.

Kenobi was in the presence of a woman. This struck Vader as odd. He knew that the Jedi did not make attachments as they believed it a way to fall to the Dark side. Perhaps in the aftermath of order 66 Kenobi had forsaken this old law of his religion. He was here because of this mysterious woman, here to help her. Kenobi knew the dangers of returning to Coruscant. He must care for this woman and be on the planet assisting her in some way.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Vader reached out to the Force with the new information he had gathered at the wretched club, searching for Kenobi and his companion. A glimpse of the industrial area of the city floated to the forefront of his mind's eye. After gaining the connection, Vader continued his mission, his anticipation for his long-awaited reunion with Kenobi growing. He approached a random speeder in the parking lot of the Outlander and began to tinker with the system, his extensive knowledge regarding mechanics once again coming to his aid as he easily started the vehicle and disabled its alarm before speeding off into the night, led vigorously by his hate.

When Vader happened upon Dex's Diner in CoCo Town he knew he was moments behind Kenobi. He could feel the Jedi's presence lingering in the air like the smog from the city. The area surrounding the diner was abandoned apart from a scruffy drunken man smoking a cigar on a nearby bench. Vader dismounted his speeder and approached the man, annoyed greatly at the number of drunk people he had needed to confront in his chase.

"Who're you?" The man asked anxiously as he neared, intimidated by the great black figure of Vader in the darkness.

"I'm looking for someone." Vader replied quietly, "I believe you may have crossed paths with him."

The man said nothing, his cigar burning out in his hand as he stared at Vader.

"I cross paths with many folks," The drunk man replied after a moment with unease, "Perhaps I can help you."

"You should hope that you can." Vader threatened calmly. "He was here only moments ago, in the company of a woman."

The man's face relaxed in understanding. "Ah, yes. They were here speaking with Dex, the owner, while I was at the diner. They seemed… up to something."

Vader nodded, "Yes, I imagine they are. What were they speaking about with the diner owner?"

The man frowned, "I was asleep for most of their conversation. However, it seemed urgent. I just watched them leave as though their lives depended on it. They were driving a purple speeder. There was a large black case tied to the back of it. It all seemed very off."

"Hmm. Indeed." Vader replied. He felt a nagging from the Force that he needed to hurry, or his opportunity to kill Kenobi would escape him. He would return another time and interrogate this Dex about Kenobi's intentions. The diner owner was lucky Darth Vader was on a tight schedule. He turned away from the man who still hadn't taken a puff of his smoke since his arrival and began to stride back to his speeder.

"Wait, you're Vader aren't you?" The man called after him. "The Emperor's assassin?"

Vader didn't turn back around, having no time for idle conversation.

"Shouldn't I be owed some sort of compensation? For helping the Galactic Empire locate an enemy?"

Vader turned this time, irritated. "I was going to allow you your life but you've changed my mind."

The man's eyes bugged, "Now hold on a minute—" but Vader snapped his neck with a flick of his wrist before turning back around and boarding his speeder. He let the anger and rage course through him as he manipulated the Force to show him the way. He was not disappointed by his abilities, as the Force responded as though it needed him to reach Kenobi as much as Vader desired it himself.

It was in the dingiest part of the industrial areas that Vader located the stolen purple speeder. It sat before two large abandoned factories at the entrance to a dark alleyway. Vader had landed his speeder on top of a nearby factory and watched from high above as a cloaked figure peered around in the darkness from atop of the stolen speeder, aware that there was a predator nearby. It was not Kenobi, but the woman who accompanied him. He knew Kenobi had ventured into the dark alleyway and the woman awaited his return. He could feel her apprehension through the force. He would kill Kenobi's accomplice after he ended the Jedi. He had the upper hand at the moment with being unseen, and he didn't need the woman to scream and give away his position to the Jedi. He was confident that he was stronger than Kenobi, but he also knew he would be stupid to underestimate Kenobi as a worthy opponent.

Vader stealthily jumped from building to building until he was above the dark alleyway that Kenobi's Force presence called from. He slid down the side of the high building quietly, surprised at how far the drop actually was, but landing soundlessly on his feet regardless. Although Vader's senses were very attuned, even his sharp eyes were unable to see a thing in the darkness. He would have to rely completely on the Force for this mission.

It was several moments before he felt Kenobi in front of him. He knew the Jedi could feel him as well, as his Force signature was overpowering. This was the moment he had been waiting for. After a few more seconds of impatient silence, he ignited his lightsaber in the darkness. The red glow was the only visibility until it was accompanied by that of the green glow of the Jedi's weapon.

They battled furiously, both Force users utilizing their abilities to sense each other's attacks in the darkness. Vader's anger and hatred reached a peak, and he was riding the high of the Dark side. He was an offensive fighter, while Kenobi was more defensive. Vader came at Kenobi with fierce powerful attacks, and the Jedi fought valiantly to block and parry each one. Any other opponent would have been dead much sooner, Vader was finally fighting someone who could almost match his technique. Almost.

As Kenobi presented a moment of weakness after Vader's last attack, he used a great amount of energy from the Force to push Kenobi mercilessly into the building while he was unexpected.

Kenobi let out a gasp as his saber rolled away from him. Vader smiled in the darkness. He was finally going to kill Kenobi and have the justice he longed for. He stalked towards his fallen opponent with his lightsaber at the ready, when all of a sudden he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. He turned around in surprise, a loud growl escaping his lips. He had been shot.

In this distraction, Kenobi escaped up the side of the building, his lightsaber shooting up in the air behind him. Vader's anger throbbed around him.

"I will kill your friend painfully, Jedi!" He swore in his anger, "And then I will come back for you!" He sheathed his weapon, wanting the woman to not be able to follow his advancements. He heard her running in the darkness, her fear echoing off the walls of the buildings and feeding the monster within him. He walked calmly behind her, knowing that she would never escape.

His long strides kept him not far behind her, as he heard the creaking of a door opening and the sound of frantic footsteps darting up a set of rickety stairs. He pushed through the door behind her easily, laughing coldly. "You can run," he said smirking, "Just know that I will catch you." He yelled loudly over his shoulder, "Do you hear that Jedi? I'm going to play with your friend before I kill her."

He could sense Kenobi's anger from somewhere nearby, causing him more glee. Kenobi cared about this insignificant woman, and it would cause him much pain when Vader killed her.

As Vader reached the top of the stairs he took in his surroundings. The room was filled with old broken machinery, and the top and side of the building had been blown off, undoubtedly in the explosion which had caused the decline of this factory. The room was illuminated from the stars above, giving him the ability to peer around in the darkness. He didn't see her immediately, she had hidden. However, he could sense her.

"I can feel you," he told her quietly, "I could find you easily even if I was both deaf and blind." Using the Force he sensed her presence cowering beneath a table in the corner of the room. Raising his gloved hand he easily lifted the table off the ground and smashed it against the wall behind her, causing the wood to rain down upon her as she gasped in surprise.

He used the force to lift her, throwing her across the room as she screamed. He felt the fear of the Jedi increase at the sound. The woman was groaning in pain as she had landed hard on a machine. He kept his hold upon her so that she couldn't move. He was reveling in this kill, enjoying it immensely. Vader was going to cause Kenobi great pain before he ended his life.

He lifted the hooded woman off the ground so that she was hovering upright, facing him helplessly. Vader ignited his lightsaber eagerly with one hand, while the other which held her closed around her throat, Force choking her. He glared at her menacingly, the hatred, pain, and anger of the Dark side overwhelming him.

"I want to see your fear when I kill you, foolish woman." Vader murmured, flicking his wrist to unveil her. The hood of her cloak flew back, exposing her face.

Vader froze, his heart beating loudly in his ears. The mass of curls fell from the hood, cascading around the soft, scared, and proud face of Padmè Amidala, who had accepted her fate and was awaiting death. Death by his hand. His anger had momentarily evaporated, as currently, Vader could feel nothing other than shock. He had never expected to come face to face with her, he had not wanted to, he had hoped not to.

She was on the ground gasping. Vader had dropped her in his surprise, recoiling away from her as if she had struck him. He stared at her, his mind blank. How had he not foreseen this? As he looked at her now the Force signature he felt was undoubtedly hers, one that he should have recognized immediately. His only conclusion was that he had pretended for so long she didn't exist that he had forgotten what she felt like.

She stared back at him, brown eyes wide in surprise, feeling their strange connection flow through the air.

"What—" the soft familiar voice began, causing Vader's head to swirl with broken memories and pain before he was knocked off his feet by the Force.

It was Kenobi. The Jedi had gotten the upper hand because of Vader's stupidity. His anger returned tenfold. How could he have spared her? Deep within him, a small, dormant part of him knew, but he pushed it back down with a growl as he lifted the rubble that had fallen down upon him when he had hit the wall of the factory.

"Padmè we need to jump!" The sound of Kenobi using that name enraged Vader. It was definitely her then. He was not mistaken. The senator was hereafter conspiring with the Jedi Kenobi. He needed to catch them. He needed to kill Kenobi. He would have to kill her too. The thought gave him an unpleasantly strange feeling he couldn't place.

He jumped out of the blown apart building once he freed himself, landing swiftly and running after the pair. He was too late. He could feel it, but he pushed on, unwilling to accept defeat. It was only when the purple speeder vanished in the distance that he gave up. His speeder was in shambles, the Jedi had been smart enough to destroy it before making his escape.

Vader shook with anger and humiliation, his hatred for himself momentarily overshadowing his hatred for Kenobi.

* * *

**AN: I hope this chapter is worth the long wait. I'm still very excited about this story and have lots of ideas! Please drop me a review, they fill me with so much warmth and inspiration. I work quicker when receiving feedback! Thank you all who have reviewed, followed, and favorited. I appreciate you and plan to update within the next two weeks. I'll probably be going back to edit any errors in this chapter within the week, I just wanted to get it out as quick as possible for you guys.**


	5. Alone

He was alone in space again; not that he minded the silence. Although, part of him missed the sarcastic beeping of the unique astromech, R2D2. Loneliness was a pill Obi-Wan could easily swallow, he had been traveling as Ben Kenobi by himself for the last year; and before that he had been on Dagobah with Yoda. They hadn't conversed as much as they had meditated. Flying, on the other hand, was another story. No matter how often he found himself cooped up in a ship watching the stars go by, it never grew to become comforting.

And so, as it has been many times before, Obi-Wan Kenobi was alone with his thoughts; rarely were they pleasant. He thought of old times often; His days as a Padawan to Qui-Gon Jinn a common fixation. Qui-Gon's philosophy was to live in the moment; he believed that every situation was placed before you by the Force and was to be dealt with uniquely. Obi-Wan was much more of a brooder. He had a tendency to overthink, dwell, and imagine how things could've been if he had acted differently in certain situations. More specifically, if he had questioned the rules as Qui-Gon had. This tendency had proven extremely toxic during the days following the fall of the Republic and the Jedi Order. Was there anything he could've done to prevent this complete and utter destruction? Was there anything the Jedi could have done differently within their practices? Should they have been more flexible in the code and reconsidered the old ways? He even debated how things could have unfolded all those years ago if he had been strong enough to save his old master on Naboo, who often critiqued the Order and it's outdated code, or young Anakin Skywalker, who Qui-Gonn so strongly believed was the chosen one to bring balance to the Force. He agonized most over the death of the Duchess Satine Kryze, cut down by the vengeful Darth Maul because of his love for her. Would she still be alive if he had left the Order at any point during their relationship to be with her? Would Satine being alive and ruling over Mandalore change the fate of the galaxy ultimately in some way?

However, as the years passed Obi-Wan had become better at not fixating on the rise of the Empire and deaths that he was not ultimately responsible for, no matter how hard his conscience tried to convince him otherwise. He had developed another dangerous way of thinking. The Jedi found himself living a false life in the past within his memories. Obi-Wan often dreamt of being back on the run with Qui-Gon and Satine, in the prime of his youth, just a padawan in love with the young duchess. He regretted now not acting upon his feelings. What did his self control matter now?

What did any of it matter now? All of the death and tragedy during the Clone Wars, fighting for peace that would never come. Although the war was over, it was hardly really _over._ It was strange to think that now he was on the side of those rebelling, those that the government proclaimed "terrorists."

He was flying fast to nowhere. It had been hours since he left Padmé on the landing of her apartment after narrowly escaping an encounter with a powerful Sith Lord. Based on what Obi-Wan knew of the Sith, he recognized that this Force wielder had to be the apprentice of Darth Sidious; the one he had heard terrified whispers about in the shadows during his last year of traveling. He couldn't fathom that the man he had encountered could be a mere Inquisitor. Master Yoda's voice echoed in his head, "_Always two, there are." _The Rule of Two was a longstanding tradition amongst the Sith; one all-knowing master to pass on the Sith religion and training to an eager apprentice. Eventually, one would kill the other and a new apprentice would be deemed worthy. The Inquisitors were other Dark side users who were under the command of the Empire, a sort of special forces. He knew of their existence due to their unlucky encounter on Jakku, in which he lost a child of the Force to the Empire. Many of them were said to be Fallen Jedi, however he had not yet come face-to-face with an old comrade.

Obi-Wan was planning on going back to Onderon to investigate a name given to him by Mon Mothma, the leader of the Rebellion. Somehow, the senator had managed to get her hands on a small listing including names of possible Force sensitive children throughout the galaxy. The names came from a once hidden Jedi holocron that had been stolen from the temple before it burned during the purge. There were many more children listed in the holocron, but what Mon had collected was a start.

However, he knew remaining in the inner rim during this time wouldn't be an intelligent strategy if he were trying to avoid imperials, especially after being recognized and slenderly escaping death at the hands of a vengeful Sith Lord. Obi-Wan pulled out his encrypted comlink to contact the Alliance to inform them of this development and request direction. He knew retrieving children of the Force was important, but he was also painfully aware that he was the only Jedi that the Alliance had that was working actively towards their cause.

A hologram of Mon Mothma shortly answered his call. She was hooded and stood with her hands clasped in front of her. "Master Jedi, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Senator Mothma, how are you?" Obi-Wan replied pleasantly, not sure how she would respond to his information regarding the renegade mission he had completed on Coruscant and debating what he was willing to disclose.

"I am as well as anyone could hope to be during these times." Mothma said calmly, before patiently waiting for him to explain the reason for his call.

"I had to return to Coruscant for a personal matter." Obi-Wan explained, ignoring the senator's appalled gasp. "While on the planet I was confronted by a Sith Lord. The Emperor's apprentice."

"Darth Vader," Mothma whispered darkly with a shudder, distracted enough to refrain from bombarding Obi-Wan with a series of questions regarding _why _in the world he would return to the single most dangerous place for him to be. "You're lucky to be alive, Master Kenobi. Not to insult your abilities by any means, but Vader has demonstrated a frightening knack for killing our members in cold blood."

"Tell me more about this Vader." Obi-Wan asked curiously. "Where did he come from?"

"He helped execute Order 66. He killed the Jedi at the temple. All of them. It's rumored that Vader killed Count Dooku as well, and took his place as Sidious's apprentice. His identity is unknown and nobody has seen his face and lived."

"He knew who I was." Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "However, I did not recognize his voice or saber style. I don't believe him to be a Fallen Jedi."

"Vader is in command of the Empire's special forces, the Inquisitors, as well as the 501st legion. He's Palpatine's right hand and personal assassin. He's rumored among the citizens to be a machine rather than a man, a cruel and merciless murderer."

"I don't doubt that." Obi-Wan murmured. "However, he is most definitely a man. His emotions were the most intense I've ever felt through the Force. The pain, hatred, anger… It was suffocating. A presence much darker than I've ever felt, including Dooku and perhaps even Sidious himself."

"I've met him once before," Mon nodded grimly, "I have to agree he is nothing short of terrifying. Vader's killed Jedi, Rebels, and citizens alike, all without a shred of empathy."

Obi-Wan frowned, lost in thought. Darth Vader had a bone to pick with him, and he couldn't imagine it was only due to his affiliation with the Jedi order. It was something personal, and he could not imagine what.

Mon sighed at the Jedi, "You really insist on not debriefing me on why you abandoned the Onderon mission and ventured to the capital?"

Obi-Wan pursed his lips and shrugged, "I'm not at liberty to disclose that information, even to you, Senator. Although, I assure you it was a personal mission, nothing more."

Although Obi-Wan had been helping the Alliance with random missions throughout his travels for the last year, he could not bring himself to become heavily involved in their affairs. However, his duel with Darth Vader had awoken the fight within him. He couldn't hide anymore now that he was known to be alive; he had hidden in the shadows for long enough: a once great Jedi Knight and General of the Republic. The Alliance was steadily growing more powerful, and as a peacekeeper of the Force it was his obligation to help them bring balance, even if it killed him. He had nothing left to lose, did he? He had finally agreed during his last conversation with Mon that he would attend the next Alliance meeting, and he intended to make his allegiance known. If not the Alliance then what did he have? He had lost the Order and he had lost Satine. Yoda had banished him from Dagabah because of his beliefs of Obi-Wan's greater purpose, and if he turned back now he couldn't bear to face the old Jedi's disappointment.

However, that did not mean he openly trusted Mon Mothma, or anyone for that matter. Definitely not enough to inform them of his activities with Padmè after hours in Coruscant.

Mon was silent for a moment, thinking. After a breath she nodded sharply. Obi-Wan could sense her displeasure at being left in the dark. He cut to the chase.

"I wanted to get direction regarding the Onderon mission. I know being in the inner rim is insanely risky for me at the moment because of Vader's interest in my demise. Would you have me postpone the task to a later date?"

"Yes, Master Jedi. I'm afraid it's too dangerous for you to be anywhere near the capital. Vader has many forces at his disposal if he were to track you. The outer rim is the only option for the time being. Fortunately, I do have a job on Tatooine that I could use you on." The leader of the Rebellion replied professionally.

Obi-Wan groaned inwardly, Tatooine was perhaps the worst planet he had ever visited.

"Of course, Senator." He replied, setting his coordinates for the remote desert planet.

* * *

The Journey to Tatooine was about a week. A week of only himself for company (not that he hadn't spent longer alone), dreading his meeting with the Alliance and how they would react to his presence. There was plenty of anti-Jedi propaganda and views circling the galaxy and had been since before the rise of the Empire. By day three in space he admitted to himself that he very much missed Artoo, even if the droid was often a twittering nuisance. At least their bickering filled the silence and distracted him from his racing thoughts. The absence of his droid companion made the Jedi realize that although he had thought himself alone before, now he was _truly_ alone.

He thought about Darth Vader, and the Sith's undeniable hatred of him. Obi-Wan had experienced that kind of burning hatred towards himself only once before, when dueling Darth Maul before his disappearance. He could think of no reason for Vader to despise him as Maul did. Obi-Wan had sliced Maul in half and left him for dead, therefore his anger was indeed valid. Vader however… He had almost killed Padmé purely because she was his accomplice, giving the Jedi Master a dark sense of dejavú to the death of Satine on Mandalore. Thankfully, he had intervened in time to save Padmè, but a shiver ran down his back at the scene he had encountered. He considered contacting his friend, however ultimately decided against it because of the danger she could be in if it was discovered that they were in cahoots.

By day five in space he was counting down the moments until the Alliance meeting. He hadn't used his voice since his conversation with Mon Mothma, and his throat was incredibly dry. What good was the Great Negotiator without his voice? Obi-Wan was nursing the waning supply of water in his canteen, as he still had two days until he reached Tatooine. He was expecting a call within the next couple hours in which he would attend his first ever Rebel Alliance meeting via hologram. To everyone besides Mon Mothma he was known by his codename: Firebird, and his Jedi abilities were not known. Today he would reveal himself as Obi-Wan Kenobi, surviving Jedi Master.

He wasn't ready when he received the call. Obi-Wan was in the middle of frantically flattening his hair when his comlink beeped. He straightened his posture and took a deep breath before answering. Instantly he was gazing at a room of the Rebellion's most influential members. The chatter among them immediately halted and was replaced by vigorous whispering. Mon Momtha, of course, was standing in the center of them all, gazing around at the reactions of her colleagues, looking pleased at their surprise and excitement. Next to Senator Mothma stood Bail Organa, who was smirking despite himself, a normally very reserved and nonchalant fellow. They were both adorned in cutting-edge robes, as if they had just come from the senate.

"Master Kenobi," Bail greeted him with comradery, "It is a relief to see you alive."

"You as well, Senator Organa." The Jedi replied, his voice hoarse. He took a sip from his canteen and cleared his throat.

"Master Kenobi, it is an honor." A tan older man bowed his head respectfully.

"Yes, indeed. You as well—"

"Commander Jun Sato of Phoenix Squadron."

Obi-Wan smiled back politely. It had been some time since he had spoken to a group of people, let alone been the center of attention. It was unnerving yet comforting at the same time. He was reminded of better days discussing missions with the Jedi council.

"General Kenobi," The familiar Mon Calamari commander greeted him with a respectful salute.

"It is great to see you Commander Ackbar, however I am no longer a General." Obi-Wan saluted back with a smirk.

"It was a privilege to serve the Republic with you." Ackbar replied with a sad smile.

"A mutual privilege, Commander." Obi-Wan replied.

"Master Jedi, what a surprise." The soft voice of Padmè Amidala said pleasantly. She stepped up from the shadows between Commander Ackbar and Bail Organa. "I am so happy to see you alive and well."

Her surprise came off as genuine. Padmè's ability to lie always simultaneously impressed and disturbed him. He remembered Bail and Mon being the same way when discussing policies during the Clone Wars. Despite what anyone said about politicians, there is no denying that they are dangerous in their own right. A different breed they are; a breed that is absurdly talented at hiding most of what dwells beneath the surface.

"Senator Amidala," Obi-Wan replied with a smile. "It's been a long time." He himself was also a talented liar. However, it still unsettled him to recognize the same ability in others who were not master's of the Force.

"Indeed." Padmè replied, eyeing him thoroughly, as if assessing any damage that may have fallen upon him. "Who would've thought that Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi was our very own Firebird."

There was no mistaking the flickering look she gave to Senator Mothma, who pretended not to notice as she took a sip of wine.

"You have done so much for the Alliance," Bail added, "We are very thankful to have you as a member."

There were a handful of other members of the Cabinet who greeted him graciously. He recognized them mostly as former politicians or military members. Obi-Wan became worn out quickly from introductions, and was beginning to tire of conversation regarding his year of secret missions for the Alliance, how he had survived Order 66, and any information he had about the remaining Jedi. It was thirty minutes into a discussion about his speculations on the location of Darth Maul when Obi-Wan began to debate that perhaps he had grown accustomed to the hermit lifestyle and may even prefer it at times.

"I am sure we all would love to chat with Master Kenobi all night of his travels. However, we have business to tend to as the Alliance's leadership." Senator Mothma silenced the chattering room immediately. "Everyone, sit. I call this meeting to order."

His holograph was positioned in the seat beside Padmè at a long wooden table. Mon sat at the head, with Senator's Organa and Amidala to her right and left. Droids immediately followed the group to their seats and began serving wine.

"Er, no thank you." Obi-Wan said dryly to a protocol droid who began to pour him a glass. Bail and Padmè each stifled a chuckle at the exchange by taking a long sip of their beverages, before catching each other's eye in mirth. Obi-Wan glared at them as his throat ached at the thought of wine. He was so thirsty.

Mon Mothma turned to Obi-Wan first, "Master Kenobi, first and foremost I would like to go over the details of your mission on Tatooine."

Obi-Wan turned to face the regal senator who sat at the head of the table respectfully. He noticed Padmè catch his eye in his peripheral vision. "Of course. I should be arriving in less than two days time."

Mothma nodded contently, "That's perfect timing. The Alliance's Saw Gerrara will meet with you in Mos Eisley. From there the two of you will complete a deal with the Hutts for stolen Imperial weaponry. Captain Sendulla of Commander Sato's Phoenix Squadron and her crew will set out after this meeting to help you and Gerrara with the transport."

Obi-Wan tried to keep the distaste off of his face. He didn't think highly of the Hutts and their crimes, however, they were no longer the Galactic Republic. He took a look around at the ragtag group of treasonous politicians and former members of the Imperial army. They had to take what they could get. If Mon Mothma was making deals with Hutts she was surely desperate.

Senator Mothma looked around the table sceptically, as if daring anyone to speak out their shared opinion on the Hutts. Nobody did, although Obi-Wan noticed Padmè's lip twitch erratically. As if sensing Padmè's dissatisfaction, Mon turned to the younger senator expectantly.

"Senator Amidala, at our last meeting you volunteered to investigate the political allegiances of Rush Clovis. What have you found?"

Obi-Wan felt his heart rate speed up momentarily as he nonchalantly took a sip of his nearly empty canteen.

Padmè cleared her throat before taking a sip of wine. "Nothing concrete, during voting on the Trade Confederation's senate seat I conversed with him about his views before giving my speech. He seems to be on the fence. I plan on asking him to come see some of my artwork at Dex's Diner to solidify some trust."

"Art?" Bail spit up a bit of wine. He and Mon caught each other's eye in surprise.

"Yes, art." Padmè said huffily, "Naboo happens to be a planet rich in the arts. I'm a decent painter."

"Dex's Diner?" One of the other politicians grumbled, "Isn't that the shoddy little diner on-"

"Dex's Diner has wonderful food and atmosphere," Obi-Wan jumped in casually, "It was my favorite place to get lunch when I was on Coruscant."

"You've never mentioned being an artist before, Padmè." Mon said with an eyebrow raised, "Why have you decided to draw more attention to yourself than you already do within the senate? An art display in Coruscant could cause more unnecessary eyes to pry where they shouldn't."

"The Alliance needs to connect with others in positive and convincing ways. People bond over art, art starts conversation. This side project of mine puts no one at risk other than myself." Padmè responded smoothly, taking another gulp of her wine and meeting Mon's eyes unflinchingly.

Obi-Wan had to admit that although it was a bit random and suspicious, it worked.

"I believe it could be a good thing." Bail remarked casually. At this Padmè's shoulders relaxed slightly beside him, and he could feel his heart slow. "Padmè is right, it could be a safe way to introduce citizens to the idea of a rebellion without gaining the suspicion of the Emperor. It's far away from the senate chambers, which I believe put us at the most risk of our mouths getting us into trouble."

Mon pursed her lips momentarily before turning to Padmè, "Very well, Senator Amidala. I look forward to seeing your . . . art."

The younger woman nodded, her mouth quirking up into a humorous smile. "Thank you, Senator Mothma, for your support."

Mon went over a variety of other missions for the remaining members before sending them on their way. "I would like you to stay, for a moment, Master Kenobi. You as well, Senators." She gestured to Bail and Padmè. "I have one last matter I would like to discuss." As everyone filed out of the meeting point, which appeared to Obi-Wan to be an old hotel of sorts, he studied the map Senator Mothma had laid out in front of him. His stomach clenched involuntarily.

"The Jedi Temple." He said quietly. The others stared at him, not wanting to correct his mistake. "Or rather, the Sith Temple that stands in its place."

"Yes . . ." Mon said somberly. "We need to discuss where they could be holding the old Jedi holocrons, and the possibility of them being able to open them."

"Only someone who uses the lightside of the Force can open a Jedi holocron." Obi-Wan said matter-of-factly. "However, every moment they are in the hands of Sidious it becomes more possible for him to find someone capable of opening them." He narrowed his eyes at the map, dragging his finger along where the library used to be located. "Within the library was a room only able to be opened by Jedi Masters. This is where the Holocrons were kept. Beneath the library were tunnels only accessible by the council, for emergencies. Perhaps if we were able to get inside we could escape out the tunnel system."

"Mon . . . is breaking into the former Jedi Temple what you had in mind?" Bail began, "That would be the most dangerous mission we've theorized yet. The Inquisitors live in the temple. Darth Vader lives in the Temple."

"Master Kenobi has dueled with Vader and lived." Mon said strategically, "If we had the right crew, the right timing, the right distraction . . . we could gain the upper hand."

"What if Obi-Wan falls?" Padmè interrupted immediately, "We cannot lose the only Jedi we have to the Emperor's guard dog. How will we open the holocrons without Obi-Wan? Or win a civil war against the Sith with no Jedi?"

"Indeed, we cannot lose our greatest ally." Bail agreed, "However, the Jedi Holocrons could be what rebuilds the Jedi Order. We have a small list of Force sensitive children. However, inside any of the holocrons could be the entire future Jedi Order. There could be information that tells us how to destroy the Sith. The Empire will fall without it's Emperor."

The three senators looked to Obi-Wan expectantly. He cleared his throat. "It is something I need to think about. I survived against Vader, yes, but Vader and his Inquisitors? I would need backup." He made a mental note to talk privately with Mon about the holocron her contact had previously acquired at a later date. She hadn't mentioned it, which struck him as suspicious.

"Of course, Master Kenobi." Mon replied respectfully. "We shall talk about it again at a later date. I just wanted to hear all of your initial thoughts." She began to fold up the map of the former Jedi Temple.

"Senators, keep your ears and eyes open. Master Jedi, stay safe on Tatooine. Gerrara should be a formidable partner for you."

"Yes, I met him during the Clone Wars, a respectable warrior." Obi-Wan said, stroking his beard.

"Indeed." Mon said with a smile. "May the Force be with you all."

* * *

**AN: I know it's been a really long time, and I'm sorry. I've been busy being "essential" and my computer broke. However, my brand new Mac has arrived! Also, as you can tell from my four other chapters before this I am a big fan of the dramatic, emotional, and edge of your seat story writing. So I'm sorry for this slightly filler-esque chapter. It had to be done to set our characters into motion. Next chapter we will be back to the life or death drama, I promise. Please leave me more reviews they give me butterflies xoxo**


	6. Master and Apprentice

It was early morning, however the sun had not yet risen. Darth Vader winced slightly as he tried to stifle his limp acquired from his duel with the escaped Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was excessively late for his meeting with his master. Vader could feel Sidious's rage through the Force at being inconvenienced. The Emperor was waiting for him, at the very top of the senate building. He had not left since a conference the prior evening. The building was completely empty except for the two Sith Lords, one who was perched at the very top, plotting ruthlessly, and the other who made his way slowly past where troopers typically guarded the important people within. The only sound to be heard was the dull echo of Vader's boots as he dragged himself up the many flights of stairs. Before daybreak the senate building remained eerily silent as it's daily inhabitants slept soundly in their high-end homes.

That was, except for the Emperor, the all-powerful dictator of any notion that passed through the senate. It was rather silly to keep up the pretence of a democratic senate, as it was known by all that Sidious was the sole decision-maker. Vader assumed it was so Palpatine could keep track of the opinions of the various planets, so he knew when to tighten the imperial reigns and when to strike against those who opposed his rule. The Emperor currently had various tabs on several senators he suspected to have Rebel involvement. Darth Sidious didn't need to take the extra rest that the other senators required, meditation in his chamber when his mind was seemingly cloudy would suffice.

Vader rarely slept himself, relaxation and lowering your guard was not the way of the Sith. At least not the way of any Sith who wanted to remain in power. He was rather tired, however, after his duel with Kenobi. It had been years since he had engaged in a fight that had challenged him as much. His slaying of Count Dooku had been the last confrontation that Vader had left marred by any significant injury or fatigue.

He entered his master's chambers, immediately dropping on one knee and bowing his head, grimly awaiting the torture that was to come.

"My young apprentice," Sidious stood from his desk in the back of the room, slowly gliding towards Vader. His tone was misleadingly calm, pleasant sounding even. Vader could sense the rage however, bubbling just underneath the facade of a kindly old man. The Emperor even once looked as harmless as he could pretend to be. When Vader was young and Palpatine was a mere Senator, or even as the Chancellor, he limited his channeling of the Dark side to avoid being detected by the Jedi, and to hide his Sith colored eyes. Now, however, after the fall of the Republic, he fully embraced his overwhelmingly dark appearance, something so evil that it had disfigured his face into the warped grey mask that it was now, a true representation of his soul. Vader wondered from time-to-time whether the same would happen to himself.

"Master," He replied tonelessly, "I apologize for making you wait. I had. . . business to attend to." Vader didn't lift his head, knowing he was likely to be punished more severely if he lacked respect. Sidious valued submissiveness in his apprentice, a quality that was hard to come by within Darth Vader. It irked every fiber of his being to kneel to the old man. He had the strongest connection with the Force of any being. One day he would bow to no one. He would call nobody "master." He would be free, released from this psychological prison.

"Hmm, yes, I'm sure you must have been quite busy, Lord Vader." Sidious said lightly, taking in the appearance of his apprentice, who was covered in dirt and sweat from his recent activities. For a moment Vader's heart rate picked up as he pondered if it was possible that his master had any idea what he had been doing tonight. Who he had been hunting. Who he had found. He deeply buried his burning hatred of Kenobi and banished the image of Padmé Amidala staring up at him, eyes shining like moonlit diamonds. Although the task of destroying the Jedi was one he claimed to the delight of his master, his need to end Kenobi was more personal. It represented much more to Vader than the killing of the others. It was a fight that was his and his alone; it was something he didn't want the Emperor to control. He strengthened his mental walls, a fortress of defence against his master peering into his mind. Sidious smiled, as if he realized what Vader was doing. He probably did.

"You seem . . . distracted Lord Vader. I summoned you earlier tonight to inform you that I require your presence at a senate gathering. I am weeding out traitors. I need you to instill fear in the senators. I sense that they do not fully accept me as their Emperor yet. However," The old man turned away from his kneeling apprentice, "I have realized we have more to talk about. You may stand."

Slowly Vader rose to a standing position, keeping his face expressionless as he fought the pain in his leg. "A senatorial meeting?" He asked in surprise, not even trying to hide his blatant irritation. Sidious knew of Vader's hatred of politics and small talk. The Sith Lord wanted nothing to do with the pointless drivel. He was much more comfortable in battle.

Sidious smiled at Vader's annoyance. "Not a meeting, a gathering. A party, rather, with wine, gourmet plates, and dancing."

Vader's anger was more than apparent now. "I think it would be rather pointless to have me attend a party." He spat out the last word. "I believe I am of more critical use to the Empire." Vader glared at the Emperor, for a moment forgetting the upcoming ramifications for his lateness and now his added insolence.

"Oh, you have many uses for the Empire, Lord Vader." Palpatine agreed, his smile widening ugily. "However, currently, I have decided your most useful position will be at the senate banquet. Unless you are choosing to disobey a direct order from your Emperor and master?" The threat lingered in the air, and Sidious's hand instinctively traveled to where Vader knew his lightsaber was hidden beneath his robes.

"Of course not, my master." He said through gritted teeth, bowing his head once again. "I am _happy_ to do your bidding." Vader hissed, to which Sidious nodded thoughtfully, strolling to stand at the window and peer outside at the empty street.

"Good, good. You see, it is most important that you do attend. I think it would be rather counterproductive of me to reveal my power with the Force in a threatening display to my fellow politicians if I can help it. You, however, Lord Vader, your strong loyalty to the Empire and known strength and brutality are something I believe will benefit our goals with the senators. My intuition is telling me we have more than one traitor in our midst, and I would like to get to the bottom of it."

"Who do you believe is working with the Rebels?" Vader asked quietly, walking to join Palpatine by the window, staring out at the city as the sun began to light the sky at the same time it always did in Coruscant.

"I will leave that up to you to decide, Lord Vader." Sidious said, turning to him with a smirk. "Perhaps I am missing something. I need you to offer your own perspective before I make any conclusions on the individuals I have been working with for so many years."

Vaded despised when Sidious withheld information from him, but instead of pressing the issue he nodded curtly, not turning away from the window.

A dark silence settled over the two men. Darth Vader knew their conversation wasn't over. He had been with his master for many years, and he was much due for a reminder of who was the ruthless master and who was the ungrateful apprentice.

"Tell me . . . Lord Vader, explain to me why I waited hours for your arrival. It is morning now, we were to meet at midnight." Sidious's tone was no longer light and airy, his voice had taken on a dangerously quiet and dark quality, and when Vader finally turned to face him his eyes were overflowing with amber, the telling sign of Sith anger.

"Rebels snuck aboard my ship while I was on the planet, I had to deal with their capture and questioning." Vader lied smoothly.

"I can sense there is more." Sidious hissed venomously. Vader said nothing, as there was no point denying Darth Sidious in any situation as he would only torture him more mercilessly if he continued to lie.

The Force brought Vader down to his knees abruptly, and he sucked in a tight breath as he felt his master willing his face up towards him violently. Vader's rage and desire to kill the Sith Lord he glared up at swirled in the air around them. Sidious breathed in the anger of his apprentice and chuckled degradingly.

"You lie, apprentice." He felt the excruciating zap of Sidious's lightning before it hit him. He refused to scream in agony or fall to the ground, remaining kneeling despite the pain urging him to collapse into nothing. After a few moments the Force lightning yielded, and Vader looked up to see Sidious staring at him with disgust. The old man reached his spindly fingers towards Vader's face, gripping the bottom of his mask and ripping it off his face.

"I sense your desire to kill me, _apprentice_. You believe yourself stronger than I, but look at you. You were born a slave and you'll die a slave if you do not fully commit yourself to me and the way of the Sith. Your lies and insolence prove your weakness. If you believe yourself more powerful than I, strike me down." Palpatine backed away, opening his arms to reveal his chest, his deformed face smiling gleefully.

Vader did nothing, though he was tempted. He knew that if he fought Palpatine now he would lose more than just a duel. He had been arrogant before, years ago, and had lost his arm to Darth Tyranus before becoming powerful enough to kill his master's old apprentice. Vader hated his master, but he still had much to learn before he could defeat him and take over the galaxy. Sidious knew the Dark side better than any Force user, and he purposely withheld from teaching Vader too much in order to keep himself alive and in control. He knew that one day Vader would defeat him. However, today was not that day.

Only when it became clear that Vader was going to make no move to fight did Sidious speak again. "Then you shall remain my loyal apprentice until the time comes when you are truly more powerful than I. You will do my bidding and whatever... _personal_ mission you've engaged in tonight ends now."

"Yes, master." Vader said numbly, his hatred pulsing around him tauntingly.

"You hide your face," Sidious murmured, peering down at Vader's mask in contemplation, "A handsome face it is… unlike the one I have acquired. Is this to appear more menacing? To strike fear into the hearts of our enemies?" Sidious peered down his nose at Vader again, and continued in a hushed tone, "Your presence in the Force already does that . . . Perhaps to hide from yourself—maybe I have been fooled, and Anakin Skywalker is not truly dead. You look in the mirror and see him, do you? The son of a slave with no father?"

"That boy is dead." Vader snarled defensively, "Don't be ridiculous." He could feel his rage pounding against his veins, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

Palpatine cracked lips twisted upwards and his eyes narrowed as he raised his crooked fingers a few inches from Vader's face, channeling the Force to perturb the mind of his apprentice. Vader's head throbbed painfully, visions of his past grazing his mind as the Emperor probed inside his brain. He used his strength to hide his thoughts and memories, but Sidious continued to push, causing him to cry out in pain. He was weak from his fight with Kenobi and the Emperor's Force lightning, unable to fight the attack on his subconscious as vigorously as he normally would, but still managing to protect his highly secret ideas. "I sense the boy inside of you, Lord Vader. Something has caused his presence to arise again. I shall enjoy helping you destroy him."

"Anakin Skywalker has been dead for many years," Darth Vader argued breathlessly, "He is gone." He knew the emperor was right, however, as the torture against his mind continued. His duel with the Jedi that haunted his past and the presence of Padmé Amidala had brought back memories and feelings he had buried for a decade. A spiral of emotions that had been held dormant. As he stared at the Emperor with bloodshot eyes his mother's face floated to the front of his brain, blurring his vision. He sucked in a deep breath, resting his head in his hands, a deep groan escaping his chest. The emperor dropped his hand, satisfied to uncover the deeply hidden pain that Vader's soul still harbored; the loss of his mother.

"You are right, master. A piece of Skywalker is still inside me. We must kill him."

* * *

Leaving the senate chambers was hazy for Vader. As he came down the long spiral staircase senators were beginning to file inside. He paid no attention to any of them. The only thought that was in his mind was the image of his bacta tank. Each step forward felt like an incredible feat, and he was sure the only reason he was still able to move was because the Force was giving him the strength to carry on. As he walked, he embraced the pain, letting it flow through him. Pain made him stronger; it caused the Dark side to ripple around him, sustaining him.

He could feel the terrified glances and confusion as he walked the streets of Coruscant in the daytime. It was something peculiar, as nobody had seen Darth Vader taking a leisurely morning stroll before.

It was sweet relief when he finally limped his way up the stairs to the temple, he was matted with sweat, dirt, and blood.

"Lord Vader—"A startled voice gasped. The Lord of the Sith was rarely seen at the temple by anyone other than the Grand Inquisitor, who answered directly to him. "—What has happened to you, my lord?" The Seventh Sister, a former Jedi and member of the Inquisitorius, rushed to his side. He swiftly threw up his hand to stop her with the Force, exasperated at her vulgar display of unprofessionalism, but too tired to respond as vehemently as he normally would.

"What do you have to report, Seventh Sister?" Vader asked sharply, dropping his hand and releasing her from his hold. She stifled a shiver at his presence, which he knew was ominous and all encompassing to even others who harbored the Dark side. The Inquisitorius feared Vader deeply, especially those who had seen the results of their peers' failures.

"I have news regarding the Luminara Unduli hoax." The mirialan woman said, bowing her head to him again timidly before following him into the temple. Her hood was drawn high, casting a shadow over her red tattoos.

"Where is the Grand Inquisitor?" Vader demanded, ignoring the pain throughout his body as he took long agonizing strides into the building. Showing weakness to the Inquisitorius was unheard of for Vader, and even in his damaged state he wouldn't allow his authority and strength to be of any question. The Inquisitorius had been presented to Vader by his master after the execution of Order 66. They continued their training in the Dark side of the Force under the Grand Inquisitor, and were at his disposal for operations regarding the assassinations of the remaining Jedi, a task he had earned after Order 66 when he stormed the Jedi temple.

Vader flinched, residue of the Force Lightning's effects that would not leave him for a few hours. He felt irate at the prospect of dealing with any complications regarding the mission he had assigned the Inquisitors. He could feel the eyes of the Seventh Sister on him, as they were whenever he encountered her. He found her lustful staring and affection towards him to be aggravating and inappropriate.

"He is at the Spire, awaiting any Jedi who may have heard our transmission." The Seventh Sister replied, eyeing Vader anxiously for his response.

Jedi Master Luminara Unduli had been taken prisoner and killed in custody by the Grand Inquisitor on Vader's orders. Footage of her capture and her intact remains had given Vader an idea for the former Jedi master to serve the Empire in the capture of other rogue Force users who were in hiding. The Grand Inquisitor was in charge of completing these plans. The plan was to trick rogue Jedi into storming The Spire, a remote prison on Stygeon Prime, where Luminara was being claimed to be kept alive as a captive.

"Contact him immediately. Gather the others." Vader ordered. "I wish to hear the report from him directly."

"Yes, my lord." The Seventh Sister murmured, failing to conceal her disappointment at not being the one who would deliver the update to Vader himself.

Vader made his way quickly to the former Jedi council chambers, now where the Inquisitorius would meet for their discussions. His body screamed at him for not retreating to his chambers to recover, but Vader ignored it's desperate pleas, as he was not an ordinary man who would succumb to pain, but instead a stubborn and hateful Sith who refused to give his master or a rogue Jedi the satisfaction of incapacitating him even for a moment. He was fully capable of completing his duties, despite the agony each movement of his limbs granted him. He had the Force to keep him standing.

The windows of the council chamber were ovular and created of stained glass, their pictures depicting renowned Sith Lords throughout the ages. The walls were solid rock, dark and looming with the occasional shimmering stone reflecting a glimmer of outside light. Lightsaber hilts won from Jedi who had perished were mounted upon the wall hauntinly, and a large round table sat in the center of the room, an intricate and dazzling chandelier hanging dramatically above it, the jewels within being the rare and powerful kyber crystals that had been collected from fallen Jedi temples on distant planets. His master certainly was one for theatrics.

The Inquisitors who were not off on distant missions slowly trickled into the council chamber, silently taking their accustomed seats at the round table. Vader stood unmoveable, admiring the stained glass mural depicting the story of Darth Bane, the creator of the Rule of Two.

"The Grand Inquisitor has received our transmission, Lord Vader." The Seventh Sister interrupted Vader meekly. He turned around, staring at the scene before him cryptically. The heads of the Inquisitorius were bowed, no eyes meeting his for fear of disrespecting their rueful leader. In the middle of the table was the holograph of the Grand Inquisitor, who was kneeling expectantly.

"My lord," The Grand Inquisitor greeted Vader. "I have news."

"I pray for you that it is good news, Inquisitor." Vader replied, remaining standing. The Grand Inquisitor looked up to meet the burning yellow eyes of Darth Vader, which must have appeared more hateful and terrifying than usual, because he looked back down quickly. Vader could only imagine the sight of himself to the outside world. The dark side surrounded him like a thick woven blanket, the reminiscence of harrowing torture and misery intensified in his piercing stare.

Truthfully, Vader was weaker than ever, as much as he attempted to draw desperate energy from the Force. He ached for his bacta tank and deep meditation over his encounter with Palpatine. However, the Luminara Unduli project was crucial to the extermination of the Jedi. A brilliant and brutal plan, one that he needed to oversee if he was to ensure that it was calculated successfully.

"The senator, Trayvis, has completed his transmission to deceive the Jedi and the Rebels. He has proved a most useful ally in our plight against the Rebellion. The Rebels trust him, they will believe this to be valuable information."

"I am relieved to hear this." Vader remarked. "You are remaining in position at the Spire, am I correct?"

"Indeed, my lord."

"Slaughter any Jedi or sympathizers who attempt to rescue our long dead Luminara…" Vader moved closer to the table, ignoring the increasing fear of the Inquisitors at his closeness. "There is an exception, however."

He flinched as his master's demands echoed through his memory, the lingering burn of the lightning grazing his flesh. However, Vader could endure the torture of his master if it meant the capture and killing of Obi-Wan Kenobi by his own swift hand.

"Anything, my lord." The Grand Inquisitor replied quickly, "Make your request."

"This is repeated to no one, even the Emperor. If I am betrayed by any, they will regret it." Vader vowed in a cold, hollow voice, daring any of his followers to question his statement. Of course, none of them did. His word was law amongst the Inquisitors. He was their deepest and most unavoidable fear.

"We are loyal to you, Lord Vader." The Grand Inquisitor whispered apprehensively, to which the others at the table murmured in agreement. Vader nodded sharply.

"Very good. Obi-Wan Kenobi is alive. If he is to arrive at the Spire, you are to capture him and contact me immediately. Kenobi is mine."

The Grand Inquisitor looked up at Vader in astonishment. "Master Kenobi . . . a member of the former Jedi Council lives?"

The Grand Inquisitor had once been a Jedi, a guard for the temple, who had turned promptly to the darkside before the striking of Order 66. He had been involved in an attack of bombing the Jedi temple before it's fall. In his past Vader was sure he had encountered Kenobi, perhaps even befriended him.

"Kenobi is very much alive, and his life belongs to me. Any other Jedi are yours to dispose of." Vader replied. "If this is all you have to report, Grand Inquisitor, you may return to your post."

"Yes my lord." The Grand Inquisitor bowed his head once again to Vader respectfully before ending his transmission.

The council chamber was once again engulfed by silence, as Vader returned to admire the stained glass once again. The Inquisitors remained seated, knowing better than to think the meeting over until Vader adjourned it. The fear of the other Force users in the room bounced off the walls of the room, much like the light verberating off the shimmering crystals in the walls. Vader revelled in the uneasiness for many minutes, feeling it soothe some of the pain in his aching body.

Darth Bane, Darth Revan, Darth Plagueis . . . Few of many that were depicted in the detailed glass before him. Renowned Sith Lords who would be legendary for their feats as long as the ways of the Sith religion remained accessible. He would one day be among them as the most powerful of all… the most feared. Soon Sidious would fall, a day Vader madly craved for, one to be implemented after he had used the evil old man up for all of his knowledge. The idea of eliminating his master brought his mind to thoughts of a once powerful upcoming sith, who was discarded by Sidious upon his apprenticing of Darth Tyranus, or Count Dooku, before Dooku was also shafted to be replaced by himself.

"The prisoner." Vader spoke coldly. "I would like an update on his status."

As he turned around to face the round table he saw the Inquisitors exchange peculiar looks with one another. After a moment of silence Vader's irritation began to rise at their reluctancy, something that was quickly sensed through the Force.

"The prisoner is stark raving mad . . . for lack of a better explanation." The Seventh Sister answered him finally, "I do not believe we will have any more trouble from him."

"Do not underestimate him." Vader replied. "His madness could be a ploy to lull you into false security. If released he could be a threat to you even in his weakened state."

"He speaks to himself often, muttering nonsense words and laughing like a lunatic." Another Inquisitor, the Eighth Brother, assured Vader. "He will not escape, my lord. Our containment shield has prevented him from having any means to use the Force."

Vader turned to the Eighth Brother, eyes blazing. "If you truly believe a containment shield is all it takes to hold a former Sith Lord, you truly are as stupid as you look."

The eighth brother swallowed loudly, "I apologize for my insolence, my lord. We shall keep tabs more regularly on the prisoner. He will not escape."

"You should hope not." Vader hissed, walking towards the door, his cape flowing menacingly behind him. "Back to your duties."

Besides the Emperor, Maul was Vader's only threat to ultimate power. Darth Vader was surely more powerful than the former Darth Maul, but the zabrak's hatred and ability to stay alive, plotting from the sidelines was unrivaled. A man who could survive being cut in half purely out of hatred was one to be wary of.

Vader made his way down the long spiral staircase which would ultimately lead to deep beneath the temple, where tunnels and secret passageways inhabited the underground. His chambers were deep within the tunnels, where none of the Inquisitors had ever ventured, past where the prisoner who was too dangerous to be kept with other traitors to the Empire and common criminals was held.

It was dank, ominous, and deathly quiet as Vader made his way underground, further and further into the abyss of tunneled earth. The peaceful silence was interrupted rapidly by the maniacal giggling of a deranged mind.

"They are both to die—" The voice murmured cryptically, before dissolving into dark cackles, "I have foreseen it!"

Upon passing Maul, Vader usually ignored his nonsensical prophecies and strange mumblings, and Maul typically stared blankly at Vader as he walked by, his lips twitching as if he was holding back a smile or secret information.

The Force urged him to stop in his tracks however, despite how desperately he wanted to reach his bacta tank and meditation chamber. Vader sighed irritably, but listened to the Force as he always did.

"Who is to die?" He grumbled as he stood face to face with the vacant face of Darth Maul, who seemed to come back to himself as he registered the presence of Darth Vader.

"It is you." Maul stated, unmoving in the containment shield, his hands cuffed above his head and his mechanical legs hanging uselessly. The zabrak's eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted upwards into a foreboding smile.

"It is I, yes." Vader remarked irritably, already regretting his decision to converse with the prisoner before him. His master demanded that Maul be kept alive, for some strange and unknown purpose, to Vader's chagrin.

"You," Maul repeated, laughing again, "You are to die. Along with my old master."

"Let me guess," Vader rolled his eyes, "It will be you who commits the deed?"

"Oh no, I will be dead long before." Maul replied, his eyes gleaming, "My torture will soon come to an end…"

"The idea of death pleases you?" Vader asked, eyes narrowing into a suspicious glare.

"Oh no," Maul assured Vader, baring his teeth, "But I prefer death to the fate you will face. Your fall will come by the hand of our common enemy. I believe you have already found him… Kenobi." Maul spat out the name, shaking visibly with rage.

Vader scoffed degradingly at Maul, "Kenobi may have been able to defeat you on Naboo, but he is not as powerful as I."

Maul laughed ragefully, "Oh yes, that rotten day. Where I was forsaken and left to rot at the bottom of that dreadful hole."

Vader said nothing, remembering the occasion himself. It was not a pleasant memory.

"You will fall, _Skywalker_, and lose much more to _him_ than I did." Maul hissed ruefully. The walls shook as Vader's rage at Maul's audacity consumed him.

"You mistake me for an unwaveringly obedient apprentice." He whispered dangerously, drawing his saber and igniting it, resting it against the bars of Maul's cell. "If you dare utter that cursed name again, I shall kill you before you can see the end of Kenobi."

Maul dissolved into endless laughter, eyeing Vader's saber with amusement. Having enough of his deranged games, Vader turned away and stalked off deeper into the tunnels towards his chambers, Maul's guffaws echoing after him against the cave-like walls.

* * *

**A/N: This felt like a good place to end this chapter. Vader is so interesting for me to write, especially as I contemplate how to interpret his psychological state in this AU type universe. I know it's been a few weeks, I'm not the quickest updater, but I try my best to create quality content as I'm quite neurotic about having a complex and well written storyline. Whoever has taken the time to write reviews for me, I so very much appreciate you as it is what motivates me to do my very best. I know it came out a few weeks ago, but I'm still blown away by the finale of the Clone Wars! It was so well done and I love Ahsoka Tano and wish there was a way to work her into my storyline but I just don't know if it's possible. I'm gonna keep brainstorming though! Xoxo and happy Memorial Day! **

**Next Chapter will be Padmé POV. **


	7. A Politician's Woes

Nobody had any idea that she was cracking. Her mask remained poised, her voice remained steady, and her posture firm and unbreaking. When walking the halls of the Senate, she wouldn't wince or blink, even when hearing the whispers, "Has anybody seen Clovis?"

It was only when she got home, to her bed and droid companion that the mask would slip. Padmé would come home, kick off her shoes, and pop open her wine. Artoo, the poor discontented droid who was more equipped to handle war than a mentally ill woman, would beep sadly at her as she drank… and painted… and drank… and painted.

She was slowly teaching herself how to speak astromech, having bought a book to equip her. "Was that one beep or two?" She asked for the third time in a conversation. They were starting to develop a rhythm between the two of them, a comfortable camaraderie.

Padmé hadn't decided on the final painting she was going to display in her art exhibit at Dex's Diner. She was positive that her best works so far were her freshly finished Palace of Theed, and her detailed Otuh Gonga piece, the spectacular Gungan underwater city. She was currently debating whether the view of her family's lake retreat, Varykino, could compete with her other two intricate landscapes, or if she should instead include her portrait of Queen Jamillia, the young woman she had relinquished her throne to three years ago. The modern queen had convinced Padmé to represent the planet of Naboo in the Intergalactic Senate after stepping down from her role as monarch. The request was made after Padmé, or Queen Amidala at the time, had personally recommended the upcoming debutante to take control of the planet in her stead. Padmé held a lot of respect for her planet's queen, and thought it prudent it be known that her talent of painting goes beyond that of landscapes, although the beauty of nature was her speciality. Truthfully, she found portraits much more difficult as her nagging perfectionism caused her to obsess about capturing a person's likeness in more than just facial features.

"What do you think?" She asked Artoo, who was currently twiddling around with her coffee machine in the kitchen. The droid whirled around, steaming liquid trailing along the floor behind him. Padmé rolled her eyes at the droid's destructive tinkering. He had managed to improve many technological aspects of her home, however, he was having quite the time with the beverage maker.

Artoo spun between the two works of art before landing positively on the portrait of Naboo's current queen. He tweeted supportively, seeming to agree with her notion of including something different. The droid whirled back around at the Varykino painting and hummed thoughtfully, before beeping considerably.

"You think I should just bring both?" Padmé asked critically, stroking her chin in thought. "I suppose I could, I just usually settle upon odd numbers in order to have a centerpiece."

The droid beeped confidently, as if to say "both."

Padmé sighed, smiling at the astromech. "I suppose I'll take your advice. More is more, as they say."

She had been keeping under the radar, more so than usual. Before Clovis, she had at least spoken her edited opinion on several matters which she couldn't stand to stay quiet for. Now, however, Padmé was keeping a low profile. She still voted against the Empire, discreetly, but she knew that if she was found guilty of murder Palpatine would grant her no mercy. He was displeased with her insubordinate moves within the senate chambers, as discreet as they were, and she would undoubtedly lose any toe she were to step out of line. Sheev Palpatine and herself hailed from the same planet, and she had thought that had granted her an advantage when it came to his hand; however, since the unveiling of Darth Sidious, she was certain the facade Palpatine had put on of patriotism towards Naboo and herself was a sham. She was just a pawn, just as all who surrounded the Emperor were pawns. Even the ominous and looming figure of Darth Vader.

Darth Vader had been the Sith Lord that had almost ended the lives of her and Obi-Wan. She had heard him speak only a few words on the holonet after Palpatine had taken control of the galaxy, years ago, not thinking much of it or realizing what a danger he truly was. A few years later, Vader was considered mostly a myth amongst the Senate. He didn't involve himself in politics or in people, and hadn't ever been seen by most. She had done as much possible research on Palpatine's apprentice as was available to her in the public archives. He was behind the scenes, leading the battles. He was there so Palpatine didn't have to get his hands dirty in dealing with the Rebels. Perhaps his purpose was to continue the facade that the Emperor wasn't made of unwavering evil, as Vader was the one who completed the acts. When he was seen on the planet, the Sith Lord was viewed in terrified awe. Nobody knew what he looked like, as he wore a dark mask and cloak, his only defining features were his glowing eyes and intimidating size. He was like a phantom, the Emperor's ghostly assassin.

She was doing her part, although not as valiantly now that she was hiding from her gruesome crime, but she couldn't help but feel a chilling melancholy in the pit of her stomach as she thought of all the Rebels in the field that had succumbed to Vader's evil. "_We've lost another squad. They were captured while stowing away on The Executor."_ Mon Mothma had informed everyone at the last meeting. The Executor was _his_ ship. It was as though just as The Rebellion was growing they were learning exactly what they were up against. They were fighting a seemingly impossible fight.

It nagged at her conscious, at the very fibers of her being, why did Vader spare her, in that moment? Why was she alive, when countless others had fallen to his hand? She was in the company of a Jedi Master, a known senator, committing an unspeakable act of treason. How was she still alive after being in the presence of a soulless Sith Lord, the Hand of the Emperor?

Padmé was depressed, to say the slightest. She wasn't eating, she wasn't sleeping. She had torturous dreams of Clovis, her shame manifesting in visions of his corpse, chopped up but still alive. His eyes streamed with bloody tears as he gasped, "_Why, Padmé ?" _The monster would be there too, Vader, his eyes glowing with animosity in the darkness, his hand reaching out slowly as if to grab her throat… and she would wake up. Artoo would be waiting wearily at the end of her bed. As the days passed it seemed the small droid was beginning to care for her. He hadn't left her alone yet, that was. She knew the day would come when Clovis's remains would be found, and she would be questioned, and her guilt continued to gnaw at her as her impending reckoning approached.

Sure enough, the occasion came about a week before her art would be shown at Dex's, roughly five days after she and Obi-Wan had disposed of Clovis's corpse. The senate was whirling with excitement of seeing the artwork of the Senator of Naboo, Amidala, the former queen of the cultured planet. It was the day of a socialite banquet being held by the Emperor, where all of the upper class echelons would be gathering in his honor for a feast and fine wines. Padmé, who used to once quite enjoy parties, was dreading the banquet before news of Clovis's body graced the holonews.

She was standing in her office, chatting with her dear friend and representative of Naboo, Jar Jar Binks, who had just returned with the latest news of how the Empire's rule was progressing to affect the government of their home planet.

Jar Jar was a longtime friend of hers and Obi-Wan's. He had accompanied them to Tatooine, and had ultimately secured the truce between herself as queen of Naboo and Rugar Nass, leader of the gungans. She had appointed him a representative of Naboo when she had taken the position of senator, wanting to surround herself with loyal friends in an unfamiliar place. Jar Jar had taken to Coruscant quite well, although he was still rather clumsy and bemused. She found his quirks to be endearing. His lighthearted spirit helped her to experience rare and less serious moments of mirth. True laughter was hard to stumble upon these days, it was as if she had forgotten what _Padmé's _real laugh sounded like, so often having to produce the charming yet fraudulent chuckle of Senator Amidala.

"It's not good, Padme… Dha Emperor has sent more troops to enforce Imperial laws. Dha queen is overwhelmed with dha militarization of our peaceful planet—"

The news reporter, a sleazy rodian man, was barely holding back his excitement on the holoprojector broadcasting in the background of their conversation. "The Senator of Scipio, Rush Clovis, a member of the Intergalactic Banking Clan, was found dead early this morning, when a bartender at the Outlander Club was unable to be rid of a monstrous stench in the men's toilet. Upon further search the former senator was found mutilated inside of a cooling vent."

Her body went numb, and her feelingless hands dropped the important items she was holding in shock. Her holobook and several holodisks containing current Imperial orders that were in the process of being passed through the senate fell to the floor loudly, causing Jar Jar to jump backwards with a yelp.

"Padmé! Senator what isa? Are yousa alright?"

She scrambled to grab the remote to the projector, which was laying underneath a pile of paperwork on her desk. She urgently pushed the pile of parchment out of her way, not bothering to watch as it drifted to the ground to join the rest of her things. She turned up the television to maximum volume, causing Jar Jar to turn his attention to the news story.

"It's— just awful—" Padmé gasped, her chest heaving as the news broadcasted a blurred video of the remains of Clovis and the bathroom of The Outlander. Her pulse sped, although certain there was nothing unnatural about her reaction. Her hands shook, although she supposed that was quite normal since she had allegedly just found out one of her colleagues had been discovered dead in a most gruesome state. It was acceptable to allow herself a certain amount of panic.

"—It is most definitely foul play, Rafra." Another reporter, a human woman with a scrunched face had appeared on the opposite side of the screen. "Most definitely terrorism against the Empire and the Banking Clan."

"An act of horrific treason has been committed here," the rodian continued nasally, "I have witnessed today one of the most appalling crime scenes of my career… It is affirmatively in my top five. Back to you, Lede."

"How terrible!" The gungan cried, interrupting Padme's concentration on the holonews. "Senator Clovis! Someone is murder dha senators! Oh nosa, Padme—yousa're in danger!"

If only her friend knew how wrong he was. She _was_ the danger, the murderer of a senator.

The Senate was ablaze with scandal, with all the politicians suspecting one another of involvement in foul play. Padme blended in with the shock and revulsion well, remaining poised as ever when Mon demanded the company of her and Bail before the banquet that evening. If she could convince her two greatest allies in the senate that she had nothing to do with this atrocity then Padme could convince anyone, perhaps even the Emperor if he were to suspect her.

"Senators Organa and Amidala, what are both of your thoughts on this tragic event?" Mon Mothma ushered Bail and Padme into her large office in the senate chambers later that afternoon. "Wait—" She interjected before either Bail or Padme could open their pursed mouths, "Sit, both of you." She gestured towards two burgundy upholstered armchairs facing her large mahogany desk.

"We have to be very careful." Mon muttered under her breath, stalking the room to make sure all of the doors and windows in the office were shut securely. She leaned underneath her desk to search for any kind of recording device, before moving to dig through the drawers of her desk vigorously. Padme and Bail watched silently as she checked behind each painting in the large room for any sort of spyware. It was several moments before she approached them again, sitting down warily in a high back wooden hair and facing them both with folded hands. "We must remain calm at the banquet tonight, I have heard rumors from a trusted source that he will be... interrogating suspects on the matter of Clovis amongst other things behind the scenes. As foul play is suspected, the Emperor has already been wary of treason with the growing Rebellion throughout the galaxy."

Padmé's stomach dropped, her face didn't so much as twitch.

"Padmé, you were investigating Clovis, do you have any speculations as to how this could have happened?"

"Mon, I wish I could say that I did," Padmé began gravelly, shaking her head. "It is most unfortunate that I was unable to secure the allegiance of Clovis before this event. We could have protected him."

"Do not make yourself responsible, Padmé." Bail shook his head at her implication. "There is nothing you could have done. Clovis knew the dangers of being involved with the Banking Clan. If there's one thing a man murders for, it's money."

"Had you heard from him after your speech last week? They're saying he's been dead since that night. You talked to him before your statement to the senate, correct? Did he seem… on edge?" Mon continued, face down turned into a thoughtful frown, her eyes searching Padmé's curiously.

"No," Padmé began, clearing her throat, "He seemed as jovial as ever. Although… Do you think someone overheard our conversation and interpreted it as plotting against the Empire?"

"That's impossible," Bail said immediately, shaking his head. "You were the one who approached him, and he made no clear allegiances. If that were the case you would be the one... deceased."

Padmé shivered believably. Her guilt and self hatred were buried deep, she was in survival mode now, doing what a politician does best—talking, listening, manipulating.

"We need to contact the Rebellion's off planet members." Mon declared, "We need a way to alert them if anyone is discovered, if someone is tortured into giving up the location of our base we need all our weapons, supplies, and numbers moved to our backup base."

Currently the Rebel outpost was located on a remote system, a salt planet called Crait. All of the Rebellion's gathered supplies and in-hiding fighter pilots and warriors resided there. If their location was discovered, it could destroy everything they had been building.

"We need to send out an encrypted transmission." Padmé said flatly, "There's no other way."

"What if it is discovered?" Bail countered, eyebrows raised, "We don't have much time to create a very strong encryption sequence."

Padmé knew she was already known to be sighted with Obi-Wan, at least by Darth Vader. He must have told the Emperor his suspicions on her identity. She was certain she would be questioned tonight. She should be the one who continues tiptoeing the line of exposure; Mon and Bail didn't need to be endangered more than they already were… partly in regards to her own actions.

"I will send the message." Padmé said confidently. "To Firebird." She spoke the codename of the Jedi Master as quietly as she would his true name. "He will know what to do, especially in the company of Fulcrum."

Fulcrum, the codename which was used recently to describe The Rebellion's most prominent figure in Intelligence work, Saw Gerrera. Saw, or Fulcrum, was currently leading a mission accompanied by Obi-Wan on Tatooine. Saw was incredibly useful, but he was brash and too quick to act at times. The two of them would be able to protect what the Rebellion held important, but Obi-Wan needed to be the one the message was relayed to in order to remain discreet and keep panic at a minimum among their forces.

"Firebird, this is only a precaution," Padmé began, as Bail stood watch at the door. Mon sat unflinchingly in her chair, her hands rested on either side of the arm rests, still as a statue. The voice changer garbled Padmé's words, lowering the pitch significantly and hiding her gender and identity. "Information may be leaked from the Eagle's Nest. If we are discovered, you are my only hope, and I must once again ask too much of you... " Padme trailed off, causing Bail to frown. Mon's thoughts didn't betray her face, as she remained masked. "However, this is just a precaution. Relay this message to Fulcrum only if you receive the following codeword, Q-U-I G-O-N under our private channel. Cordé out—"

She had been using her fallen handmaiden's name as her codename since the formation of The Rebellion, in her honor. It had been years, but the ache in heart still struck whenever she spoke her deceased friend's namesake.

The three politicians were silent for several moments, mulling over the possibilities of the Emperor's suspicions.

"Mon," Padmé interrupted their silence abruptly, "May I ask your source, the one who you trust enough to believe our identities within the Rebellion are at risk to discovery by the Empire?"

Bail turned to the Rebellion's leader in interest as well, although saying nothing.

"At this time," Mon Mothma spoke slowly, not breaking eye contact with Padmé, "I believe I must keep their identity to myself. Just know that I trust their intentions, and that I have no greater values than those of The Rebellion."

Padmé suppressed her frown at her fellow senator's secrecy, although she supposed that her reaction was hypocrisy at its finest. She was hiding the fact that she and another member of their movement had killed an important political figure that could affect the entirety of their mission.

"Very well," Padmé replied briskly. "I believe we had better scatter, considering we have been cooped up here for nearly a suspicious amount of time." She stood, brushing off her olive green dress and adjusting the white scarf that was currently covering the disturbing bruises left by Darth Vader's chokehold.

"Indeed, it's getting late." Bail stood as well, looking between both women and ignoring the dissatisfaction between them. "We had better get ready for the banquet. I will see you both there. Do you think it best if we share a table or sit apart?" He asked Mon as an afterthought.

"You two sit together. I will sit with the other senators within our ranks to keep morale high."

Bail nodded, "Very well."

Padmé began to turn to follow Bail out of Mon's office, but the older woman called out to her.

"Senator Amidala…"

"Yes, Senator Mothma?" Padmé asked, turning on her heel slowly to meet the eyes of her colleague. "What is it?"

Mon paused, "Is there something… romantic… between you and Firebird?"

Padmé's head snapped around immediately to make sure the door had indeed closed behind Bail's departing form. She was barely able to conceal her surprise, neutralizing her expression before facing Mon again. Mon noticing a significant connection between her and Obi-Wan put her on edge, even if her concern was misplaced.

"Of course not," She said lightly, "We are just old friends, I owe him my life from many years ago, remember?"

"Of course." Mon replied, relaxing her shoulders and returning a light smile. "I simply want the best for you, is all. A brave man he is, but to love a Jedi is dangerous business, and I believe you are already involved in enough dangerous business, my dear Senator."

Padmé chuckled, "I smile in the face of danger, Senator Mothma." She joked back, throwing the woman an easygoing wink.

"That's what I'm afraid of." Mon sighed, ushering her out the door. "Good luck tonight, you'll need to be on your best behavior and on your highest guard."

"Yes, yes." Padmé assured Mon with a slight frown, "I always am, Senator."

* * *

"Padmé Amidala Naberrie, I haven't heard from you in over a week!" Sabé stormed into the Senator's penthouse apartment, causing Padmé to jump as she was applying her makeup, leaving a streak of black liquid across her cheek. She turned away from her ancient full length mirror and matching vanity, both treasures from the Palace of Theed, smiling faintly at the sound of her friend's voice.

R2D2 whipped out of the kitchen, beeping maniacally, his weaponry protruding from his chest, a laser pointed at Padmé's beloved handmaiden in alarm.

Obi-Wan had told the droid to protect Padmé, and clearly that was his intention.

"Artoo, no!" Padme exclaimed, placing herself between the droid and her friend immediately. "Sabé is an ally."

As quickly as the weaponry appeared, it vanished back to it's usual hiding place within the droids' intricate mechanics. He beeped wearily at Padmé, who rolled her eyes.

"One of these days, Artoo, you're going to need to learn to trust me."

The little droid seemed to scoff at her. She sighed.

"Don't you have a coffee machine to fix, mister?"

"Yeah, yeah." The droid seemed to grumble in his unique language, and Padmé watched amusedly as he rolled back into the kitchen, keeping a suspicious eye on Sabé.

Padmé turned to her friend, the only handmaiden she had decided to keep on after departing as queen of Naboo. Their similarities in appearance were uncanny, a reason for why Padmé had chosen Sabé to impersonate her in a variety of situations throughout her queenhood. Not to mention her intellect and regality, of course.

The dark haired woman was dressed in long flowing orange robes, cut in a style native to Naboo, her hair wrapped up in a matching turban. Her makeup was simple compared to how it was when they lived in the Palace of Theed. Eyes kind and brown, a similar shade to Padmé's own, stared narrowed at her friend in concern.

"You've lost weight, I can see it in your face." Sabé said accusingly, raising an eyebrow. "And who's the droid? Where in the kriffing hell did you find him?"

Padme snickered in surprise, Sabé rarely ever used foul language. She often scolded Padmé for her own obscene tongue as they were growing up. "A friend gave him to me." She said vaguely, waving away the subject and altering the conversation's direction. "Thank you for coming, my friend."

Sabé sighed, smiling. "It is my job, afterall, isn't it?"

Padmé chuckled cheekily, "Perhaps." Laughing felt like a lot of work for her, as did applying her own makeup.

"Have you been eating?" Sabé accused, as she pulled up a stool across from Padmé's vanity in the living room. "Or sleeping?" she added, motioning to the dark circles under Padmé's eyes.

Padmé sighed, "I'm fine, Sabé, believe me. I've just been working a lot." At one time, Padmé hated to lie. However, it was second nature to her after being involved in politics since she was just a teenager. She could lie easier than she could tell the truth.

"You need a vacation." Sabé declared, motioning for Padmé to hand her the makeup tools she was currently brandishing, a teasing smirk upon her face. "You're quite good at painting your own face, amongst other canvases. I don't know why you need me for this."

Padmé's shoulders relaxed immediately, and she closed her eyes. The heavy lids tempted her to drift into dreamland. "So that I can take a vacation," She murmured whimsically, "I am quite exhausted, as you've pointed out, and I need a cat nap before I attend this dreadful party."

"Ah yes," Sabé got comfortable in the seat across from Padme, settling in to begin her makeup.

"Keep it natural, please." Padmé interjected as she felt the brush touch her cheek.

"You don't want the royal Queen-of-Naboo treatment?" Sabé said jokingly, causing Padmé to huff with humor.

"I'm no longer queen, and therefore don't need to be subjected to that." She replied, stifling a yawn and trying to remain still.

"You'll always be a queen to me, milady." Sabé said respectfully. This once would have warmed Padmé's heart. It was a phrase commonly uttered by her people. She may have deserved it at one time, but she didn't anymore.

Padmé didn't say anything, allowing Sabé to work in silence for several minutes.

"What would you like me to do with your hair, Senator?" Sabé asked her friend, who was walking the line of consciousness, failing to fight a desperate exhaustion.

Behind her closed eyelids she saw Darth Vader as he choked her. She saw Obi-Wan and the malevolent Sith Lord dueling. She wondered how Obi-Wan's mission on Tatooine was going, if he had found Saw Gerrera… If he had gotten her transmission.

"Whatever you would like." Padmé replied shortly. She didn't mean to be sharp with her friend, but her anxiety regarding the night she had ahead of her was bubbling underneath the surface, heightened by her lack of sleep. This could be her last banquet, her last night as a senator. Although, part of her considered her last night as Senator Amidala the somber one where the Republic fell.

Sabé had known Padmé for many years, and therefore knew when to leave her be. It didn't take long for her loyal handmaiden to finish her makeup, and she soon moved on to placing intricate braids in Padme's hair.

"I've managed to cover your eye bags, milady." Sabé said encouragingly, gently pulling Padme's hair into a style of her own choosing. "You look bright eyed and bushy tailed."

Padmé didn't open her eyes. "Thank you, Sabé." She said softly, before adding, "I am very thankful for all that you have done for me, throughout the years. I am lucky to have you as my handmaiden. I am even luckier to have you as my friend."

"Of course, Lady Padmé ." Sabé said, surprise evident in her voice. "You know I would do anything for you."

The idea made Padmé wince. She didn't deserve the loyalty and respect she had worked so hard for anymore. She had been an intelligent and benevolent ruler, improving the lives of many. She had become a hardworking senator who fought for the rights of her planet...and then she had become a murderer. She had tainted her soul by taking another life in cold blood. It wasn't for the purpose of war, or for protecting her planet. It was for protecting herself. Her reputation deserved to be tainted too, she knew it did. However, she would face her reckoning after she saw the end of the Empire. She would redeem herself for killing Clovis, for involving Obi-Wan in her crime, and most of all for her role in the Emperor's rise… and for all of the people that had died because of it.

"May I pick your dress for the night?" Sabé asked brightly, trying to improve Padmé's spirits. "I believe I know the perfect one."

"You may," Padmé said, opening her eyes to view her completed hair and makeup. Two thick, intricate braids wrapped around buns on either side of her head. A thin headpiece composed of many small diamonds wrapped around the top of her hair, a larger tear-shaped diamond dangling down the center of her forehead. Her face looked regal, beautiful, and well-slept.

Sabé disappeared into Padmé's closet as the senator admired her friend's work. She looked much better than she had in days, not having the energy to put as much work into her appearance as usual. At least if she was killed tonight she would look put together.

Sabé returned carrying a pale blue dress made of Naboo's finest silks. It was a gift given to her by her first love, Palo, while she had been queen. "I'll help you get into it." Sabé said, gesturing for Padmé to stand so that she could help her undress out of her work dress. Padmé stood, closing her eyes again, as Sabe untied the olive green fabric that was currently loose around her thinning frame. As she slid out of the number, she heard an audible gasp from behind her.

"Milady, your body—" Sabé exclaimed, gesturing to Padmé in alarm, "What has happened?"

Padmé glanced down in alarm, relaxing when she saw the large yellowing bruises along her thigh and back from being thrown into a metal contraption during her encounter with Darth Vader.

Sabé reached to grab the white scarf that was tied tightly to Padmé's throat, ripping it off her neck before Padmé had the chance to fight her off.

Her typically modest and proper friend swore with vulgarity in Huttese, causing Artoo to whirl out of the kitchen in attack mode. "I knew something was wrong with you—"

"Sabé please—" Padmé shushed her, cursing herself for not remembering that the marks still remained on her body. They had hurt immensely for a few days, but she had quickly learned to live with and hide the pain in order to preserve her image and reduce any amount of suspicion. "It's not what you think."

"Somebody has hurt you, perhaps the same person who killed that other senator!" Sabé said, eyebrows raised, "We need to find this person and prosecute them—"

"I've had an aggressive experience…" Padme interrupted immediately, "With a lover. You mustn't tell anyone Sabé."

Sabe's jaw dropped comically, and she studied Padmé for a moment, silenced.

"Milady?" Sabé said in a hushed tone, covering her mouth, eyes wide.

"It's true," Padmé said, pleased that her lie seemed to be believable. "He is very passionate, and rather—well, rough."

"Who?" Sabé demanded, finally moving to help Padmé get dressed, her eyes still assessing Padmé's gruesome bruising.

"I never took you for a gossip, my dear Sabé." Padmé countered, causing the other woman to scoff as she laced up the blue silk dress. "We've ended things, it no longer matters."

"Well, good." Sabé sighed grudgingly, "Anyone who can damage you so thoroughly during lovemaking isn't husband material. You must be more careful Padmé."

Padmé gasped painfully as Sabé continued to lace the corset of her dress up tighter and tighter.

"And I put you in a dress sewn by Palo Jemabie," Sabe continued with a high laugh, "I never realized what a harlot you are, milady."

Padmé chuckled, turning to look at her friend humorously, continually impressed with her ability to hide the truth. "Oh, shove off." She eyed her reflection in the elegant wooden mirror in front of her. She looked perfect, sparing the bruises around her throat that had been covered for days by various scarfs.

"Sit back down and let me fix your neck." Sabé said, rolling her eyes at Padmé good naturedly. "I can't let my queen go to the ball looking like a savage tart."

* * *

**AN: An update for all who are still following this story! Thank you for your reviews, they make me so happy. The next chapter will be an intense one, the awaited meeting of Padmé and Vader. I believe the chapter after next will begin the adventure of Obi-Wan on Tatooine, where he runs into some interesting riff raff (fans of the Clone Wars will love that storyline). I have so many ideas for this story y'all. I know I'm a little slow at updating but I'm determined to finish this eventually. I have a long weekend coming up, so I may pop out two chapters this month. Right now my estimate for total chapters is around 25, maybe more, maybe less, so be prepared for a long and crazy ride everyone. Buckle the fuck up. **

**Side-note: I hope nobody hates me for including a TINY eensy weensy bit of Jar Jar. He won't be largely focused on as a character but he'll probably make a couple small appearances. You guys have said you like how detailed my storyline is and my large inclusion of characters… this one's for you Ahmed Best.**

**Penny (or review) for your thoughts, everyone? Thank you for reading :3**


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